Terms of Engagement
by Tamlin
Summary: Tokio and Saitou are two of a kind. Too bad they don't know about it.
1. Know Thy Enemy

**Series disclaimer for this and all subsequent chapters.: **Rurouni Kenshin is the work of Nobuhiro Watsuki. I am only using these characters for entertainment purposes. If you enjoy this, you will probably enjoy Nobuhiro Wtsuki's work even more. Go buy it. You'll enjoy it.

**AN:** To my readers of my other fic I am working diligently on _Psyche_! I just realized I was dragging my feet since I didn't know what I would do without it, so to get myself over that problem, I started this.

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Terms of Engagement

Chapter One: Know Thy Enemy

**Toki**

A very wise man said to know thy enemy as one of the tenets of achieving victory over enemies. However, what to do when the information you get about your enemy has so little hope in it?

Toki sighed and set the letter down on the table before her and lifted her tea cup to take a sip, letting the delicate flavor soothe her. So far all she had received on her enemy pointed out a formidable foe. One that she wasn't entirely sure she could achieve victory over. This was not entirely bad news. She did love a challenge, but not now, not when the stakes were so high.

She flipped one handedly through an accumulated stack of letters and reviewed her findings that she had carefully gleaned from the wives, sisters, mothers, courtesans and other female, at least to male eyes, thus non-important people.

Saitou Hajime (aka: The Wolf of Mibu),

_Oh be still my romantic heart, _Toki rolled her eyes as a voice that sounded suspiciously like her aunt Ayaa commented in the back of her head. Aunt Ayaa had died an old spinster with a wickedly sharp sense of humor, and a naughty gleam in her old eyes.

Schedule:

Wake one hour before dawn

_Which makes him either dedicated, a troubled sleeper, strange, or all of the previous._

Sword practice- exercise

_Dedicated? Or psychotic? Both? Neither? Nice muscles probably…_

Breakfast-Favorite food: soba, brown rice tea, and liche fruit

_Definitely simple food to cook_

Briefing with his superiors

_Knows how to take orders? Or is he a condescending ass?_

Patrol

_Not pleasant…most I ever get is that he is doing his duty. Which translates into he goes out and uses some of that sword practice on pedestrians…_

Lunch- Often eaten at stands. Pays for food. Is courteous but not friendly.

_That is nice. Most of the Shinsengumi don't bother paying…_

More patrol

_Fewer pedestrians…_

Return to report to superiors

_Are they checking up on him because they don't trust him? Or is the information he gathers that important?_

Dinner

_More soba- I wonder if it is just bad cooking on the part of the company's cook?_

Even more patrol

_Must patrol every inch of Kyoto twice a day. I'm surprised I haven't seen him rummaging through my laundry._

Return to headquarters

_Doesn't join his fellows in drinking after patrol? Hmmm…antisocial? _

Sleep

_And it starts again… _

Habits:

Bathes once a day, sometimes twice

_Considering what he does on patrol, I'm not surprised… Otherwise he'd look like he stepped out of a butcher shop._

Soba

_He even eats it at the stands…Touchy stomach? Nerves? Stress? Has no taste in food?_

Starting to smoke western cigarettes.

_He's fighting against the Westerners, but takes up their habits? Odd… and smelly_

Visits a geisha house once a week. Visits the same woman- Mei

_In love? Disease possible. Lovely what the West has given us…_

Doesn't drink

_Ever. Need more information about this… not that I'm complaining_

When talking, he doesn't address women except lower class women, then only to give orders. Higher class women are ignored.

_Typical… Womanstupid, thus not worth talking to. Still need more information before making final judgment._

Specializes in gatotsu sword style.

_Never heard of it…Need more information. Still, he does specialize in something, which shows dedication and discipline._

Takes care of his appearance- Clothes clean, pressed, hair always neat, all…accessories… cleaned and well cared for.

_Does he do it, or the servants? _

Judgmental- calls his men, servants, and others derogatory names. Has limited tolerance for idiocy- his own judgment on himself.

_A rather big fault. And a dangerous one to have. This I could work with._

Intelligent- there were numerous reports that brought this conclusion to her attention. Analytical. Methodical. Able to take different disparate bits of information and put them together into a coherent whole.

_That was not good. The man is no fool…except…maybe…_

Toki flipped to a description of his woman, Mei. Apparently she was a delicate, classical beauty with porcelain skin, tiny bone structure, a soft oval face, dark eyes, a low cultured voice, and elaborately decorated silky black hair. Mei would generally greet him in the main room, take Saitou back to her own quarters, formally serve tea- brown rice tea- then…

Toki twitched uncomfortably.

Then a pretty standard –apparently- coupling with Mei submissively receiving Saitou's attentions. The only oddity was that Saitou liked Western style kissing. How…disgusting. After the coupling, Saitou would leave. No lingering goodbyes. No presents. No sweet words. No conversation. Just redressing and returning to headquarters to bathe and sleep.

She set all the letters aside, and sat holding her now empty tea cup and looking out the window at the tiny garden in the back of the house she lived in. The neighbors on the other side of the fence had thrown some trash over again, this time crushing a small chrysanthemum plant. She made a mental note to have the plant replaced and to have someone return their trash to them, as she weighed the information before her.

Could Mei be the weak point to strike at? Mei was chosen from a rather large population of public women. Which could indicate that Mei was his preferred type of woman. Traditional, small, submissive, delicate, an old fashion beauty. With Saitou's apparent distain of women, that could give her, if she was careful, a weapon to use against him.

Toki got up and walked over to a nearby arrangement of flowers that sat in a wide bowl of water. Peering in she could make out her own features. She pursed her lips as she critically examined what she had to work with. She was small. Her face was oval, but slightly more sharp featured than classical beauties depicted in art, with a narrower chin and higher cheekbones. Her eyes were a rare blue color and large. Her teeth small and strait. Her brows were delicately arched, her skin smooth and, thanks to the dangers of stepping out into public with a civil war going on, pale. Quite adequate for most daily interactions… but maybe… she narrowed her eyes, not the look she wanted for the upcoming… battle.

With a small smile, she called for her serving woman. It was almost time for her to meet her enemy in combat. They would need ammunition and there wasn't much time. This was one time she needed to be at her very best. She couldn't afford to lose. It was time to put on her armor and prepare her weapons..

**Saitou**

The sheer amount of mindless babble that he was forced to put up with on a daily basis was truly incredible. Usually, he could escape by patrolling, practicing, or merely growling menacingly at the idiots that surrounded him. However, the head idiot was immune to the growling, insisted on practicing with him, and refused to leave him alone.

"Come on Saitou," the head idiot, also known as his best friend Okita, called. "Don't you want a glimpse? They should be here soon."

They. The women. The major complication that his superiors, in their divine wisdom, decided to inflict on their officers. Which meant him. _Great. Lovely._ Just what he needed to make his existence complete. They were in the middle of a bloody, violent, war, with their enemies sniffing for even a tiny weakness, so of course he needed a wife. Some weak piece of fluff he'd have to protect, provide for, and spend even more of his limited time dealing with. How nice of them to think of it.

"There they are." One of his men yelled excitedly.

_Perfect. Wonderful._ Sepuku was looking good. It would at least be restful. He was starting to forget what sleep was like. He could vaguely recall something about closing his eyes and relaxing. Two activities he hadn't had the luxury of doing for… he started worrying when he couldn't remember when he last indulged in those activities. Sleep was after all a physical necessity.

"Too bad it's raining." Another idiot commented. "I can't see them with their hoods."

"Wow. They're actually here." Okito elbowed his way out of the crowd around the window that had gathered to watch the women arrive.

_Yay._ Spoken like someone who wasn't supposed to get married shortly, and was trying to cudgel his mind into coming up with some sort of plan to escape that fate. Not that he had much choice, or chance of avoiding the match, considering the wording of the order, not to mention the glares from his superiors.

He could hear the group come into the courtyard below them; soft tap of feet, the quiet murmurs of female voices, the rap on the door as one of the women's chaperones knocked. He shook himself free of his personal cloud of doom, as Okita slapped him on the shoulder.

"Lucky man! Bet she's a beauty." His best friend, who he was presently considering practicing gatotsu on, laughed.

He grunted and stood up. The ladies were making their way up the stairs in a rush of silks, slippered feet, and perfume to make his life hell. He glanced around at the other men who would be blessed today and found them cowering together in a far corner looking like mice who just noticed a cat was watching them. He would have liked to make a comment, but he had a suspicion that he was looking a bit cornered too.

His commander, Serizawa, probably to make sure there would be no sudden rushes for freedom on either side, escorted the girls in and looked pointedly around at his men. The chaperones bustled in next to their charges, urging them to take off their coats, and demanding tea to warm their ladies up.

As the hoods came off, Saitou was semi-relieved to see that his commander had at least chosen women that were beautiful, elegant, with gentle, cultured manners. Each one was perfect for respected officers, who would one day command positions of respect in the Tokagawa government. Which of course was the whole point of this. Thanks to a few fools, the Shinsengumi was getting a reputation as a group of thugs. To show the people, and more importantly the government, that they were upstanding citizens honorably serving their country, the commanders had chosen to make the officers more respectable. In other words, make them married men with doting wives and happy children.

Some of the mice from the corner ventured closer as the commander started introducing the women and pairing them, with their attendants in tow, with their assigned betrothed to get acquainted. Saitou was the last to be called, apparently his lady –his lady… What were the gods thinking?- was still struggling with her cloak.

"Can't wait can you?" Okita whispered excitedly in his ear.

He drove his elbow back, catching his friend sharply in the side.

"Hey, don't be like that." Okita gasped, rubbing his abused ribs. "Look at the others, she's going to be… Oh."

Silence.

His intended finally got her robe off and turned to give him a shy smile. He shivered. Okita standing next to him seemed to be choking on his own breath. The men who had been grinning like fools before, had all collectively blinked, and their smiles were faltering into snickers.

He of course would get the exception. She looked… well… his horse seemed to resemble her. Mind you Kaze was a fine animal, that he was rather proud of in a teenagerly way. But it didn't mean he wanted to marry the animal, or anyone that seemed to have a family resemblance to said animal.

While the others had been willowy, and elegant, his beloved seemed…study. Her skin was not just fair, it surpassed even fashionably pale, it was pasty. Probably due to her trying to hide the fair amount of acne eruptions that spread in lumps over her face, neck, and if he wasn't mistaken, shoulders. The teeth she flashed him were large, crooked, and… sorry Kaze… horse like. Her hair was caught up into an overly elaborate style with some of the most… ornate combs he'd ever seen, much less seen all at once stuck into almost military rows in hair that looked…sorry again Kaze… like it had all the softness and luster of a horse's tail. Her eyes were heavily kholed and squinty but in the dim light of the room seemed to be bluish. Her hands were good, covered in a multitude of gaudy rings, but small and smooth.

Serizawa winced, then facing Saitou, put on a stern look, "Here is the… lovely… Tokio. Why don't you two go over…" he looked around the room where the other men, looking both shocked and relieved at their near escape, sat with their flower-like future wives. He finally pointed to the corner the men had been huddled in before. "there and get to know each other."

_Translation: Too bad. Now fling yourself on the blade of matrimony and face your fate like a man._ Saitou bowed, and took a step back to let Tokio step past him. Okita looked worried as the stout lady minced coyly by, heading for the table. A cloud of overused, perfume wafted off her and attacked their noses.

"You're next, you know." Saitou snarled as he followed his fate obediently. "The next round of marriages is next month."

Okita gulped, but was mercifully silent as Saitou trudged after his soon to be blushing bride. Tokio had settled, or rather thumped her meaty back end down on a chair and was now gawking around the room.

"Oh, isn't that cute. They have games." Her voice had all the melodic quality of….a cow lowing in a pasture. _There, Kaze, I spared you…_

She pointed at a row of names and numbers that were posted on a wall with colored pins next to some of the names. Saitou winced and wondered what genius had left the assassination list posted like that for all to read.

"It's so nice that they think of things like that. War must be so dull." She laughed a laugh that would have made a lesser man wince.

Saitou, trained to endure pain stoically merely nodded. _Why me? My kids are all going to be morons._ "You can't imagine. But they seem to find ways to keep us busy." _Curse them. Damn them. May they all rot in hell._ "May I get you some tea?"

She brayed another laugh that had the happy couple a few tables over glancing over in pity and disgust. "Oh, I do love tea. Mind you, I like it extra, extra strong." She flashed him a smile that showed him that not only were her teeth large and crooked, but yellow as well. Probably from all that extra, extra strong tea.

Saitou bowed and walked calmly to the kitchen, hoping it didn't look too much like an escape. The cooks were already preparing a meal sure to impress the ladies. He eyed the feast tiredly. He'd have to chomp through all that with her. Worse, it was only the first of many such happy meals. He eyed the kitchen knives speculatively. They all looked decently sharp and more than adequate for gutting himself.

"Tea. Extra, extra strong." He grumbled to an assistant cook.

The assistant looked puzzled. "Extra, extra?"

"Just pour some water in a pot then add a few spoonfuls of tea. Four or five should do." Saitou was nothing if not attentive to his future wife's needs.

The cook picked up one of the dainty tea pots that they had purchased just for this occasion and went to destroy perfectly good water. When he came back and handed the now steaming pot over, Saitou trudged back to the table.

"Oh, there you are." His darling grinned, absently picking at one of the lumpy eruptions on her neck. "I was feeling deserted."

_Desertion. Now there is a concept._ He glanced around to find Serizawa standing guard at the door. Not that he would actually do so, but… He glanced over to his bride to be watching as she poured herself a cup of tea and gulped the horridly bitter mixture down with a pleased smack of her lips.

He cleared his throat that seemed to be closing up on him. "So tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?"

As she thunked her elbows down on the table with a pleased smile, he wondered if he could find the Battousai and get into a life or death battle tomorrow. The man could be infuriatingly elusive, but he had incentive. Lots of incentive. Unfortunately, it was incentive to let the Battousai carve him into fillets, then thank the manslayer for putting him out of his misery, but it was either that or …marriage.

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Please review. 


	2. Tea and Flowers

**AN:** I am trying to write this with a younger, slightly more human Saitou. After reading a few things about what happened to the real Saitou Hajime after the revolution, I figured he'd might still have a few less-then-coldly-perfect qualities that probably wouldn't have been totally driven out of him yet that aren't apparent in RK's timeline. He's going to make mistakes. He's going to feel 'softer'. He's going to react a bit differently, since at this time, he hasn't learned some of the harsh lessons of later. So don't say he's OOC. I know he is, and it's on purpose.

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Terms of Engagement

Chapter Two: Tea and Flowers

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**Toki**

Toki unwrapped herself from the layers of padding that she had swaddled herself in and spat the fake teeth out of her mouth. As she ran her tongue around her teeth to rid them of the paste she had used to keep them in place, she started washing the heavy rice paste off her skin. She grimaced at the small bug bite on her neck that she had picked raw, but it was all for a good cause. The heavy horse hair wig that had weighed down her head was then carefully unpinned and set carefully to the side. A few more subtractions latter, she sat contentedly chewing on a wintergreen leaf and chuckling to herself.

Too bad about Saitou. He was a appealing man. A rarity in these days when every available male seemed to be rushing off to join one side or another in the war. The only ones left were doe eyed pretty boys that were too pampered or too inept to be of use. Saitou was defiantly not a boy and far from inept. From his tautly muscled body that moved with smooth confidence, to his deft swordsman's hands, to his sharp eyes, Saitou Hajime was nothing if not a attractive, intelligent, and powerfully viral man. Thus, too dangerous. A pity really.

"Lady, your esteemed uncle wishes to speak with you." One of the house servants rapped timidly on the door.

She hated that. Wasn't it bad enough that Uncle Choju had made his presence a permanent part of her household, did he have to bully the servants into cringing wrecks. Still things could, and if she didn't take care, would get worse.

"Of course." She stood up, smoothing her robes down and checking to make sure all her disguise was erased. "Is he in the garden?"

She slid the screen open. The servant who had been crouching outside the door jumped back startled. It was one of the younger girls who usually worked out in the kitchen. A few rumors of how her uncle entertained himself with them whisked through her mind as the girl cowered before her.

"Yes, lady."

She nodded and walked calmly down the hall till she opened another screen and stepped out onto the veranda. Her uncle sat, dressed in an silk kimono, on a cushion surrounded with letters, a tray with tea, writing paper, and a pot of ink. It didn't escape her notice that all were of the highest quality. Bought by her money, no doubt.

"Uncle, you called for me?" She bowed low, eyes demurely fastened to the ground.

"Sit." He waved to a small pillow set to one side without looking up at her. "You met your betrothed."

"Yes, Uncle." She settled down on the cushion, keeping a neutral expression on her face.

"Good." He watched a small bird hop through the leaves of a maple tree nearby. "I am worried about you. In these dangerous times, you need more protection than this house can offer."

_True, but not in the way you are implying._ "Thank you for caring for my welfare." She bowed.

"What was your impression of your husband to be." He took a sip of tea.

_And there is the heart of your plan. _"He seems like he would make a good husband." She kept her eyes down, trying to fake a bit of grateful modesty.

"Really?" His voice gave the impression of being bored and only going through the motions of being a good uncle.

"As you said when you arranged this marriage, he is a man of good position, who has risen through the ranks." She kept the details bland and formal. "He is not unkempt nor ill mannered, and will not be a disgrace to the family."

"I suppose he is a busy man." He set the tea cup down and picked up a letter. "I have heard that he is a good swordsman."

She bowed apologetically. "I am sorry uncle. We did not discuss that. He seemed reluctant to discuss anything dealing with his work."

"Hmmm." He rattled the paper in his fingers. "What did you talk about then?"

She wasn't going to tell him she inflicted three hours of talking about the proper cut for an obi and how to get stains out of tatami mats on Saitou's progressively twitchy person. While it had be amusing to watch the feared Wolf of Mibu squirm as she lovingly described the process of pouring vinegar on a mat and how merchants always tried to sell inferior obis to the unwary, her uncle would not find it entertaining that she had frittered away such precious time. Time she was not supposed to know she wasn't supposed to waste.

"Tea. Clothes. Common everyday things." She made herself sound shy. "He didn't seem interested in talking about himself."

The paper was slapped down. "Very well. Dismissed."

She bowed, got to her feet, and left, the picture of an obedient woman. _Bastard._

She headed back to her room, forcing herself to shake the anger she felt out of her and focus on something more pleasent. Tomorrow, she was supposed to meet her betrothed for a formal tea ceremony, one where she was supposed to do the serving. Supposedly a quiet break for the Shinsengumi's tired officers that would allow them to enjoy the grace, serenity, and polish of their soon-to-be wives. She grinned as all the possibilities danced in her head.

_Poor Saitou. Little do you know it's for your own good I do this._

**Saitou**

The garden was the essence of tranquility. The meticulously sculpted trees, the exquisitely placed ornaments, the artful streams and pools, overlooked by serene tea houses set to give any tired soul a peaceful retreat to compose themselves and enjoy the calm harmony of a tea ceremony combined to create the perfect romantic setting. In the bushes, nightingales sang of the perfection of the evening.

Saitou and his lovely fiancée strolled along the paths enjoying their togetherness, as other couples settled down to tea. She was a vision in her ornate orange and pink robes decorated with bright green and yellow chrysanthemums. The obi that valiantly tried to reign in her delicate waistline, was a muddy brown with gold leaves and was tied in a crooked bow in the back, while a multitude of jingly combs adorned her tresses. She was idly scratching at her neck, where a particularly irritating acne eruption seemed to be bothering her, causing some of her creamy complexion to flake and crack.

"I do hope I don't have to sit for very long doing this." Tokio sighed in a voice that would have done justice to a farmer cursing at his ox. "I have bad knees, and honestly, it's such a bother to have to keep getting up to go urinate when your knees are creaky." She squinted through the gathering twilight at her darling. "Don't you think?"

Saitou had, over the past day of searching valiantly for the dreaded Battousai and failing to find him, had been bracing himself for just such an occasion. "Of course." _Damn Battousai, you will pay for this. I could be peacefully dead, but no, you have to be coy. And the word is that you have taken some idiot oath not to ever work as a hitakori again. Couldn't you have waited? What would a couple of weeks really mean in the overall scheme of things! A few less mindless politicians? Damn you Battousai!_

His beloved snorted a laugh, that turned into a sound like a horse- I didn't mention you Kaze!- choking on a piece of wire. "I knew you'd agree with me!" He tiny be-ringed hands clutched onto his arm with a vice like grip. "We're just the same."

He summoned a small pathetically sickly twitch of his lips that he hoped passed as a smile. "How lovely."

"Oh, look! An unoccupied tea house!" Tokio squealed digging her nails into his arm. "Let's go have tea!" She paused, pursing her lips into a pout. "Maybe I should go pee first. All that tea…"

Saitou looked hurriedly around the elegant landscaping, hoping for some miracle. None came, so his betrothed bustled off behind a bush already tugging at her lopsided obi.

"You just go right ahead, Hajime. I'll catch up after I pop this cork." She called back in a voice that echoed across the garden, causing some of the other couples to look over at them.

The Wolf of Mibu slunk into the teahouse and awaited his doom. _Please, let her wash her hands. Please, let her wash her hands._ He had noted that today, his darling had dirt caked under each tiny, ragged nail. With the added…popping of the cork….he shuddered to think of those hands…doing anything. He had consigned his kimono to the trash three minutes after she had latched onto his arm when they met. It would never come clean. Even if there were no marks, he'd always know those delicate hands had been on his sleeve.

"Hajime, do you have a handkerchief?" She bellowed from the bushes.

"No." He settled down on a handy cushion to stare glumly at the tea service that was set out for them to use. After a second, he blinked, then quickly stood up, grabbed the porcelain and pitched the set into the stream that bubbled musically below. With a relieved sigh he set himself down on a cushion. _Disaster averted._

A few minutes later his wife-to-be lumbered her delicate way up the three steps and stood panting and fanning herself with one of her sleeves. "It sure is warm out today." She paused looking around. "What? No tea?"

"Apparently not." Saitou shook his head, looking regretful. "We will just have to enjoy our evening without it."

Tokio pouted. "I was so looking forward to serving you real tea." She then grunted, turned, and waddled her dainty way back down the steps. "I'm going to go borrow a set from someone else."

"No, please. Don't go to so much effort. Your company is all…" Saitou, seeing disaster looming again clamberedafter the lovely enchantress he was going to marry.

"Excuse me!" She called with the dulcet tones of a dying yak. "May we borrow your tea service, ours is missing."

A soft, elegant, cultured voice quietly murmured, "So sorry. We are still using ours."

Not to be deterred, Tokio turned and headed to another peaceful teahouse. "Excuse me! Can we…"

**Toki**

_Infuriating man. _He was still apparently determined to marry her. She had turned a simple tea ceremony into one of the punishments of hell with spilled tea, burned hands (his), and ripped cushions; she had used the manners and language of a half wit street urchin; she had deliberately not bathed and spent most of the afternoon doing yard work in the sun, so she smelled and had the cleanliness of a farm hand fresh from the field; and she had deliberately been over-familiar with him, using his first name without his permission, and clinging like a fish monger desperate to sell a three day old tuna. And he **still** was nothing but pleasant and polite.

_And men call women fickle. If I actually wanted him as a husband, he'd probably half way to Hokkaido by now._ She sulked along at his side as he tried valiantly to point out some of the more attractive features of the park. She made little grunting sounds in her throat and glanced boredly at each attraction.

"Listen, a nightingale." He paused under a tree, tipping his head slightly to listen to the song.

"Pesky things. They've been making a racket all night." She muttered, trying to kill the romance of the moment.

It was romantic too, thanks to the efforts of whichever officer of the Shinsengumi had arranged this little interlude. The park was aglow with white paper lanterns and each small pond they passed had a sprinkling of flowers floating on the surface. In a few of the small clearings, flute players sat playing serene, romantic songs into the night. Small tables of enticing foods and drinks were also placed here and there along with tables to sit and enjoy a small meal. The chaperones were all ensconced in a small tea house in the center of the park being entertained by a small troop of performers, keeping them busy and away from interrupting.

The other couples were meandering through the park, smiling at each other and talking in soft voices. They all seemed happily matched. She even noticed one couple sneaking off to a less lighted area of the park, and she was sure they weren't the only ones, or that that section of the park hadn't been overlooked by the planners of this outing. No, they planned that.

She looked over at Saitou with watching the way he glided at her side, a quiet, intense shadow. His kimono had, during the chaos of their relaxing tea- probably when she had set the cushion on fire- come open slightly, exposing a glimpse of a well toned chest. His long black hair was caught back with a simple black tie, tempting her fingers to slip through it to see if it was a sleek and supple as it looked. His slender face was composed and, even after all the aggravation she had heaped onto him, serene and heart-stoppingly handsome. _Tempting man._

**Saitou**

Someplace as he was hauled through the garden filled with happier couples, it finally came to him. The perfect way to get out of the hell that was opening up at his feet. He'd just make her not want to marry him. If she broke the engagement, then he would be free and, more importantly, completely blameless. It would be perfect, difficult, but still the perfect solution to his woes. The…lady… was probably under the impression that he was from a good family and in marrying him, no matter how it was arranged, would advance her, and more importantly her family, in the world. Still, he needed more information about her. He'd been careless, allowing himself to get trapped like this without any information about his soon-to-be bride.

He glanced over at her as she trundled along at his side with the grace of a water buffalo. He suppressed a shiver as it worked down his spine as his likely future gaily leaped by, gracing him with small previews of endless meals of questionable origin spent in her company, rainy days trapped in the same house as her, and worse, fathering children with her. He focused on the paper lamps that swung on thin wires from the trees, as his mind shuddered. If he was lucky he'd have to lay with her only a couple of times, then he could flee to the arms of someone…cleaner, more intelligent, more cultured, more…not her. He glanced over at him, noticing her looking at him with barely concealed interest, and with and inward shiver pretended he hadn't seen.

"Tell me. Why did your family arrange this?" He looked away towards a nearby bush that was rattling suspiciously. Probably one of the others sneaking way to the less lighted sections of the park, but with a war raging around them, he wasn't going to let his guard down.

"My father and uncle think it is time for me to be married." Tokio snorted. "I suppose I am a bother to them." She grimaced. "For some reason they believe I am getting lazy. Why I can't imagine. Uncle sleeps later than I do. He doesn't even rise before mid-afternoon, so why whine at me about being abed till noon?"

_Ask and you know. Great. Her own family is dumping her on…me._ He nodded noncommittally. He also figured out the bushes were rustling because of a stray Okita lurking in the leaves. _I thought he was going to be patrolling till midnight._ "Indeed."

"How about you?" She sounded as if she had been coached into asking polite questions and wasn't all that thrilled to know.

"I generally wake up early." _And if I have to suffer being married to you, I'm going to haul you out of bed with me so we…wait…no, on second thought, sleep in. Please, sleep in as long as possible._

She gave a little flounce of her head, setting her combs jingling. "I don't see why anyone would do such a thing."

He shrugged, half his mind on the conversation and half on keeping tabs on Okita. In a way it was reassuring that his friend was there, watching his back, but it also worried him. Okita wouldn't abandon his patrol without a very good reason. "It keeps me busy."

"Sleep keeps you busy too." She muttered, with the grace of a five year old throwing a quiet tantrum.

"Habit I suppose." He shot her a look from the side of his eyes. "My father was a foot soldier and believed in keeping that routine."

"Really." She sounded bored, not shocked.

"He would get us all up at dawn." He looked away pretending to be lost in his memories. Okita was trying to get his attention, slipping through the shadows, catching his eyes, and nodding toward the exit. He would have to end this little tete a tete. Something was not right.

"Us?" She pursed her pale lips.

"My brother, sister and me." He steered her toward one of the clearings that held a table of sweets. "I regret to say this, but it seems that I am needed." He nodded to where Serizawa was walking toward them with a expression of controlled anger on his face.

Tokio waved on hand dismissively, her eyes already entranced by the spread of fattening foods. "Very well. I suppose I will see you tomorrow."

He bowed to her in farewell, then went to meet Serizawa. "Yes?"

"Takada," Serizawa snarled angrily. "We just found he's bee sending messages to the Ishin. Yatate and Toriyama, who were sent to Izumo with him are dead."

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	3. Silk and Swords

Terms of Engagement

Chapter Three: Silk and Swords

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Tokio

"He is just the sweetest thing." Aoi gushed happily, as Toki kept her smile plastered on her face. "Honestly, I don't care what they say. I just can't believe that Hiro would harm a fly."

Smile still in place, Tokio nodded, privately thinking that if dear Hiro wouldn't even harm flies, his days in the Shinsengumi were going to be tragically limited. The future wives of the Shinsengumi were together for a little unofficial social event, one that Toki had sneakily orchestrated. However, as odd as it sounded, the only missing wife-in-waiting was herself, Tokio, having excused herself with a vaguely worded, and deliberately suspicious excuse of having "intestinal problems." She was sure that when Saitou heard of it, he would quite probably read in "too lazy to get out of bed to meet the others for a midmorning social gathering." Instead, she was sitting there, not as Saitou Hajime's future wife, but as a young woman who was thinking of entering into the draft for the next round of marriages.

"Oh, Tama is like that too." Momoiro giggled, fanning herself with her conspicuously expensive silk fan. A gift from Tama, probably.

"Matsu is probably the gentlest man I've ever met." Kiiroi sighed dreamily.

Toki revised her opinion as she nibbled on a small confection from one of the many delicate plates that spread across the table. The Shinsengumi apparently recruited accomplished frauds. She knew from her continued information gathering that her own dearly beloved Saitou was a sneaky lying bastard, and he, as captain of the third squad, was setting a high standard for deceitfulness. He must be so proud.

Not that she wasn't quite talented in that field. She preened happily in her newest disguise, one of the most deceitful she had yet dawned. She was pretending to be herself, admittedly with a slight alteration in her name, but herself none the less. As sweet, naïve Yaso, the young daughter of an Aizu retainer, she could mingle among her fellow brides, get information that might help her get free of her darling, would-gleefully-hunt-down-any-of-nature's-creatures husband-to-be, and not have to dress or act as Tokio, the half wit bore.

Midori cooed, batting her lashes. "Well, Momiji isn't gentle, but…" She trailed off with a lingering sigh, looking naughty. "I'd rather marry a well equipped soldier then a bunny rabbit."

"Mmmhhmmm." Sumire nodded in agreement. "My Kashi is very well equipped, too. And rather accomplished with his sword."

Toki bowed her head, pretending to be properly embarrassed, and took a flustered sip of her tea. No matter how honest one was trying to be, society still dictated certain lies should be maintained. She vaguely considered, as she hid shyly behind her fan, giving Midiri and Sumire a few choice bits of information about their manly men; such as Kashi, the well equipped tended to spend his afternoons, and sometimes his evenings getting "private performances" from young kabuki actors; or that Momiji, who wasn't a bunny rabbit tended to act like a rabbit in mating season, with a harem of at least a half dozen or so young women, who got frequent private viewings of his "swordsmanship".

"Tama is such a darling, but that doesn't mean that he can't swing a sword with the rest of them." She patted her hair self consciously.

"Speaking of sword swinging, did anyone catch a look at Okita?" Aoi glanced around, as if her sweet Hiro would pop out of the soji screen. "He's the best swordsman in the Shinsengumi, and…" She grinned, "I wouldn't mind seeing him practice."

Momoiro took a sip of tea, grinning. "Those eyes! I swear, I was swooning from across the room."

"Yes, he is cute, in a boyish kind of way, but did anyone look at Saitou?" Midori fluttered her lashes. "Now, there's a man! I wouldn't mind being bitten by that wolf."

Toki could almost feel her ears perk up. While it was a long shot, one of these women might just know something useful that she could use in her fight.

"Did you see his fiancée?" Sumire laughed. "She's not going to be getting much sword practice."

Midori nodded. "The look on the poor man's face at the park when we first arrived…" He looked like he'd just been handed a sack of old garbage."

"Considering what he was handed…," Momoiro wrinkled her nose. "I can't believe that thing is even …female." She shivered. "I can't even call… it… a woman. Did you see what it did during the tea ceremony?"

Toki fought down the urge to preen. The tea ceremony had been brilliant. Poor Saitou, he'd probably have nightmares for the rest of his life about tea, pillows, and porcelain cups. She wondered if the burn on his knee from her pouring scalding tea on him was still bothering him.

"I hear that Serizawa is planning on having the engagement nullified." Aoi whispered. "Think of the embarrassment her family will suffer."

Toki shifted slightly, pretending to adjust her kimono, feeling a jolt of pleasant surprise. "Surely she isn't that terrible. She could have just been nervous." _I can't believe I've done it! Serizawa himself! I should have targeted him in the first place!_

Midori gave a tiny almost, but not quite, unladylike snort. "She's a cart horse dressed in silk. I doubt she has the sense to be nervous."

"You're being generous." Kiiroi sighed sadly. "She's a blight on all womanhood, even female horses deserve more regard."

"True. They at least can satisfy a male." Sumire made a dismissive wave with her hand. "I doubt that swine could satisfy even a pig."

Toki smiled, then quickly hid behind her fan. _I did it!_

"Oh, dear." Midori reached over and tapped her gently with her fan. "Yaso, don't mind us. We're just being…"

"Honest." Kiiroi frowned. "If Yaso is thinking of marrying into the Shinsengumi, she's going to run into Takagi Tokio, and she should be warned."

"Yes." Aoi nodded. "Yaso, you stay well away from that…thing." She looked around at her fellow brides-to-be. "You stay close to us, and we'll make sure that it stays well away from you."

"If they really are going to sever the marriage contract between her and Saitou, Yaso might be the perfect one to sooth Saitou's nerves." Momoiro nodded.

_Oh no! I didn't work so hard and make a fool of myself just so that I could land in the same trap I just got out of!_ Toki shook her head. "Oh, I couldn't presume… After all, he's the third captain…and if she's as bad as you say…"

"You'll be just perfect." Aoi smiled.

Sumire shook her head. "Maybe not." She smiled at Toki. "No offense, Yaso, but Saitou might be a bit more than you can handle." She nearly purred as she fanned herself. "He is quite a man, and you are…well, very young. He might need someone a bit more experienced, to help him over this tragic episode in his life."

Toki nearly choked on the tea she had been sipping. It was one thing to be insulted as her horrid alter ego, but … her unworldly? Okay, so she hadn't …well… lain with a man, but that hardly qualified her as a social dunce. She could handle Saitou. Easily. Wasn't she doing so now? And she was just as womanly as any of them. More so, if one counted looks and anatomy, which many women did. And if their scintillating conversation was any measure, she was certain she was superior to them on an intellectual level. She sipped her tea as another plan formed in her mind. This one, she admitted, was formed of conceit, but it would be a harmless diversion. After all, it would lead to nowhere. Darling Yaso could always disappear without even a hint of a trace. It was Tokio who couldn't get involved, but Shinoda Yaso, who was nothing more than a figment of her imagination could get as involved as she liked. Indeed, she was going to get very involved. She was going to get Saitou Hajime to fall in love with her.

Saitou

The horse plodded, each step raising a puff of dust off the road as they trundled along in the wagon. It was dry, it was hot, and it was boring. Nearly as boring as Serizawa's lectures on moral and company pride, which was always one of the few times Saitou could count on catch a solid hour of rest.

He glanced sideways at his… companion…for the trip Shinohara, a psychopathic, sword wielding freak, that made him wonder about Serizawa's sanity. Admittedly Takeda was hardly worthy of sympathy, an honorless traitor who was responsible for the deaths of two good men, but Shinohara? He was, if the rumors that were surfacing were true, hardly better. Maybe he should take the opportunity to make the world a slightly better place and take care of both?

Probably not. He'd have problems getting mission partners if he suddenly got the reputation of taking off annoying… _Wait, this could work for me…._

"How much longer till the bridge?" Shinohara yawned peering out from under the straw hat he'd stolen at sword point from a passing farmer.

"Almost there. The river we're following is the one the bridge crosses." Saitou kept an eye on his partner, as the man shifted in his seat and resettled his sword.

They were supposed to be farmers ferrying a load of rice along the Taketa Highway. However the psychopath he was saddled with had long blown that cover as he casually bullied other travelers, mugged farmers, and displayed his sword to every eye that cared to look at them. So now he was stuck wearing farmers clothes, in a dirty creaking cart, behind a old nag of a horse, next to a fool dressed as a sword wielding farmer. Who ever heard of a sword wielding farmer? Maybe if the revolution was successful every farmer would have a sword to slice his neighbor to bits with every time the cattle strayed, but for now, it was purely moronic.

Shinohara yawned again and settled back, "Alright. Wake me when we get there."

The man was asleep in seconds. Saitou went back to watching the horse plod. Farmers and travelers gave him and his sword wielding companion a good wide berth as they trundled up the road. Cattle being driven to market lowed and kicked up more dust. Time seemed to crawl, and Saitou let his mind wander.

He'd asked Okita to get someone to look into his blushing, dainty, fiancée before he left. She hadn't seemed that shocked about his humble origins, but maybe if he found out more information about her, he would have a way to persuade her to latch onto someone else…like Okita.

He nodded at the thought. His friend had spent the last few days making his life hell with his not-so-sly comments and jokes. Perhaps all he needed to do was to convince her that Okita would be the better choice. Yes. His friend would be a much better choice for his buxom bride to be. Okita was of a good family, was an astounding swordsman, and was charming. A few discreet words to Serizawa about Okita's need to produce an heir quickly because of his illness and that surely his beautiful intended would be the perfect match…after all she was a strong, healthy, young lady.

Saitou smiled to himself… Yes, that would work beautifully…

Okita

Okita stepped carefully around a group of children playing by the side of a building, and scanned the area. Nothing suspicious caught his attention, so he nodded to a passing lady, and continued down the street, searching for a certain tea house. He had taken an afternoon off and tracked down Tokio's uncle, a man named Kojiro Choju . He was, if anything worse than what Saitou had passed along from his fair fiancée. Not only did the man sleep well into the day, but when he was awake, usually spent his time in gambling dens and sleazy tea houses where the lowest of the common women sold themselves. The man had, in the few hours that Okita had trailed him visited two such tea houses, and diced away more money than Okita made in a month.

From what information he had gathered, he had no idea what was going on. Apparently, the beautiful Tokio was the heiress to her mother's estate, which was quite sizable. While Tokio was unmarried, her father, or since her father was away in the lord of Aizu's service, her mother's half brother Kojiro Choju, had control of the estate. However, the moment Tokio married, the entire estate would transfer instantly to her husband, Saitou. This left honest, upright Uncle Choju penniless, since he was born from a youthful, and apparently embarrassing indiscretion on the part of Tokio's maternal grandfather, and had been firmly overlooked in the will when that grandfather met his end, leaving his money, lands, and goods to his only child and his infant granddaughter. So why would Kojiro deliberately set out to marry his niece off? He had no other source of income. He was living off her money. He had expensive habits and lifestyle. He had to know that once Tokio was married, his new nephew would most likely cut off all his funds. So why? Why marry her off?

Okita shrugged. He carefully looked around, looking for any Ishin, or others who might be lurking around to helpfully relieve him of any spare moments of idle boredom, but seeing none, walked across the street to the small tea house that Kojiro apparently frequented for lunch. Okita, thankful that what few illusions he had about the inherent goodness of mankind weren't going to be completely obliterated in a single afternoon, was relieved that the man ate at a reputable tea house, who actually specialized in…tea. It also was expensive. Grinning at the look that was sure to be planted on Saitou's face when Okita came to him with the bill for this little fact finding mission, Okita stepped into the shop and looked around for dear Kojiro.

The man was sitting by himself in the front of the shop, smoking a thin cigarette and eyeing the waitresses speculatively. A delicately painted screen blocked the view of the street outside, but allowed enough light through the thin paper to illuminate the man with a soft white halo.

Okita stepped up to him, bowing low. "Hello, I do hope I'm not interrupting you."

Kojiro glanced up at him disdainfully, then looked away feigning indifference. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'm Okita, a colleague of your future nephew-in-law, since he has been called out of town on a matter of business, he asked me to inquire into the health of his beloved fiancée." Okita bowed smoothly, keeping his voice as low and pleasant as he could. "I do hope she is well."

Kojiro's attention had snapped to him completely as soon as his reference to Saitou was out of his mouth, the pose of languid irritation dropping away.

"Please, join me." Kojiro waved a hand to the cushion opposite him. "I was just about to have a pleasant tea to sooth my nerves. The day has been rather stressful."

Okita settled himself down with a polite half bow to his host. "Thank you."

Kojiro waved a waitress over and ordered their meal, then turned back to him with a smile. "I am pleased to see that my future nephew shows such care for my niece. She is rather precious to me."

"Yes, Saitou is quite attentive." Okita watched the man, noticing the absent way the man fingered his sleeves, almost as if he was nervous. "And how is the lovely Tokio?"

"Ah, she is a beauty, isn't she?" Kojiro smiled slightly, watching as a young waitress swayed by in her formal kimono. "She takes after her mother."

Okita smiled as he inwardly cringed. Kojiro, with his slender body, high cheek bones, delicate chin, and elegant hands must have taken after his own mother, thus bypassing what could only have been an horrific, if fondly overlooked by the family, trait for dumpy ugliness. It was actually quite charming that a man with apparently few other good qualities still could look at his lumpy niece and call her beautiful.

"Her mother must have been lovely." Okita paused as a waitress set tea down in front of them with a small plate of ohaki.

"Yes, quite." Kojiro bit into one of the small pastries. "And how is my nephew to be? I know that Tokio has been missing him."

"I haven't heard anything, but knowing him, he's fine." Okita sipped his tea as the waitress placed a dish of chilled somen down in front of them and set out small bowls for them to eat from.

"Tokio told me that he's quite a swordsman." Kojiro waved for him to serve himself. "You do not know how relived I am to hear that, what with…" he nodded toward the street. "…the war, and all."

Okita nodded, "Is that why you chose to marry her to someone in the Shinsengumi?"

"Yes." Kojiro served himself some noodles. "As fond as I am of my niece, I am no protection for her." He shook his head sadly. "I have begged for my brother-in-law to bring Tokio to Aizu, that it is just too dangerous for her to continue living in Kyoto, but he won't listen."

Okita nodded, feeling a familiar burning tightness in his chest. _Not now! Not now, out here in public. If one of the Ishin were to see_… "Yes, living in Kyoto right now is dangerous." He glanced around. Maybe he could get outside, even for a few moments, he could find someplace private till the fit passed. "Speaking of which, I'm afraid you must excuse me for a moment. There is something that needs my attention."

Kojiro went pale, startling as if about to get up. "Should I…"

"No, please." Okita scrambled to his feet, feeling breathless. "It may be nothing. I'll be back in a moment."

He nearly ran over a waitress on his way out the back door, holding one hand over his mouth and trying to suppress the urge to start coughing. He dodged through the kitchen, past startled chefs, and out into the back alley. The only shelter he could find was a small alcove just down the way, which he raced into just as the first cough worked its way out of his throat.

Kojiro, slipping silently after the distracted Okita, paused near the entrance to Okita's hiding place, hearing the man start coughing uncontrollably. _So it is true. I heard he had contracted lung rot. How interesting… He might be the perfect one. Now to convince Serizawa that sweet Tokio should marry him and not Saitou._

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	4. Shifting Ground

AN: I have a tendency to write complicated characters and twisted plots. I'm trying to keep this fic simpler than some of my other multi-chapter nightmares, but I still love tinkering with character's heads…

Terms of Engagement

Chapter 4: Shifting Ground

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Tokio

Toki seethed as she paced around her rooms. Her maid and other servants had long ago darted off to find important things to do in other rooms of the house as their mistress stalked back and forth snarling like an enraged tiger.

_Saitou might be a bit more than you can handle._

"Me! Not being able to handle Saitou!" Toki growled to herself. "And you presume to think you could…" She glared at the neat stack of letters and correspondence she'd collected over the past weeks on her darling wolfish fiancée. "He'd eat you for dinner."

That thought however brought other thoughts of other things Saitou might sink his teeth into if left in the same room with Sumire or Midori. What was it that Midori had said…

_I wouldn't mind being bitten by that wolf._

Toki snarled, and stamped away from the letters, as if they had insulted her. "You both should stay with your well equipped boys. Saitou is out of your class."

_He is quite a man, and you are…well, very young. _

"And you are very old. Face it Midori, the reason you were willing to lower yourself to marry one of a group of ronin was because you're getting past marriageable age. In a year or two, the only place left for you is to become a temple maiden." Toki glared at a flower arrangement then swung back around to snarl at the letters. "And sweet Sumire, the only reason you are there is because your father doesn't have the money to bribe some poor idiot to marry you."

_He might need someone a bit more experienced…_

"Experienced! Ha!" Toki scooped up her intelligence reports. "And you nominate yourself to be his consolation, is what you meant Sumire?"

Toki dropped the letters as she pictured Sumire's face: round, with a soft pouting mouth, beautiful slanted dark eyes, a tiny button of a nose, and perfect porcelain skin. Just like Saitou's common woman Mei. She drooped a bit, then shook her head. "It means nothing. Nothing!"

"Lady…" A timid knock came from the door. "Lady. Your esteemed uncle wishes to speak with you in the garden.

Toki turned her head away with an irritated huff, then took a deep breath and nodded. "Very well, I will come directly."

She quickly hid her reports, straightened her robes, and smoothed her expression into a serene, placid mask. As she stepped out the door, she nodded to the servant and walked down the hall to the garden. Her uncle as usual was sitting in expensive luxury, surrounded with all the trappings of an educated, pampered man.

"Tokio." Her uncle gestured for her to attend him as she entered the garden, "I have some news for you."

Toki bowed respectfully, and knelt on the indicated cushion. Her uncle had been out all morning and part of the afternoon, dressed in a formal kimono. An occurrence that had spread alarm through the house. Her uncle was notorious for lazing in till mid afternoon, and only wore formal clothes on rare occasions. That both had occurred at the same time, proceeded by him summoning her to the garden , boded little good.

"I have been talking to Serizawa." He tapped an ornate fan distractedly against his palm, not looking at her. "We have come to the conclusion that Saitou is not the man for you. When making these arrangements, I was not informed that his lineage was so humble."

Toki nodded, keeping her expression carefully neutral and her eyes demurely down on the ground, staring at the grass next to her uncle's cushion. She knew for a fact that her uncle had done an extensive background check on Saitou before he ever agreed to the betrothal. He could probably name Saitou's sister's neighbor's pets.

"When I brought this up to Serizawa, he was quite apologetic." Uncle Choju smiled distantly. "Yes, quite apologetic."

Toki nodded again, wondering what form of apology her uncle had extracted from Serizawa. Serizawa wasn't a fool, but neither could he risk offending her uncle, or more importantly her and through her, her father and the Lord of Aizu. Whatever her uncle had gained, to supposedly sooth their family's offended honor, must have been lavish.

"He agreed that a marriage between you and Saitou would be a disgrace to our family, however, he did suggest a remedy to the situation." Uncle Choju was nearly purring in happiness.

Toki braced herself. Whenever her uncle sounded like that, it meant trouble. He had come up with a new way to make her life difficult.

Saitou

Saitou shifted on his futon, trying to relax. He had finally arrived back at headquarters, after putting up with his companions idiotic posturing, and just wanted to try to get the stain of a mission gone horribly wrong out of his head. Serizawa probably wouldn't agree with him about the mission's success. After all, the traitor was punished for the death of two good men. However, Saitou considered it an absolute failure. It was one thing to punish a traitor, and protect the lives of others whose only duty was to see to the protection of the citizens of Kyoto, but to purposefully…

Saitou twitched again. It wasn't that he hadn't seen worse in the bloody mess that passed for Kyoto's streets. Cleaning up the butchered remains of both fighters and innocents had become as much a part of his patrol duties as trying to prevent those crumpled discarded bodies from appearing in the first place.

It was the glee in his crazed partner's eyes that made the whole thing a mockery. Killing was not a game to delight in. It was a duty, a requirement to protect others. It was an end to all possibilities. It was a dirge to the soul, singing the loss both to the dying and to the killer. All balanced on the edge of a blade as it rushed through the air.

Saitou sat up staring at the shadowy forms that inhabited his room at night, looming shapes in the darkness that in the light faded into harmless chests, racks, and other everyday things. At night, they took on a different look, a different demeanor. He looked around the room, feeling suddenly cold. Wasn't this his life? In the day all was bright and honorable, but at night, things became harder to distinguish, all shades of gray, everything taking on different faces, making everything more difficult to understand.

Not for the first time, he wondered what he had gotten himself into. His father had drilled into him early that he had a duty to his country. He was meant to serve, to give all so that Japan could become a place of beauty and greatness. But where did that leave him? At the end of the day, after seeing a foolish, desperate man butchered by an insane, and probably just as traitorous, man, could he really say that Japan was a place of beauty and greatness? That it was even a place he wanted to stay in when the insane returned to a hero's welcome while the foolish were left to rot at the side of the road?

He shook his head and settled back, wondering if he would be able to relax if he went to see Mei. He needed the physical release she could provide, but again, is that what he wanted? Or perhaps Serizawa had the right idea? Could a wife really be the answer? Someone to come back to and say, "Yes, this is what I am fighting for. See those children, they are mine and they are the future. See that woman, she is my wife, and to keep her safe, I will fight."

He didn't want the woman Serizawa had selected for him though. Serizawa had given him the joyous news of his freedom from his not so beloved fiancée as soon as he had finished describing the events that had taken place on that damned bridge. Perhaps his superior had seen the misery…

_Not bloody likely. _Saitou snorted, rolled over and tugged the blankets up over his shoulders irritably. He was getting maudlin in the night. Next he'd shedding melodramatic tears of self pity and maybe swearing off killing for the rest of his life, like a dimwitted hitikori he was acquainted with. Maybe he'd take a vow and spend the rest of his life wandering around in a melancholy fog trying to redeem himself for all the world's failings. After all, wasn't that what the heroes of old used to do after they had slaughtered their way into legend? Maybe he could shave his head and become a monk. That would go over well with his family. His sister would glare at him and ask if he'd received any head wounds lately, while his brother snickered and rolled his eyes from the sidelines. His father would stomp away swearing that he never fathered such a son, while his mother would try her best to see something, anything, positive about the whole disaster. She'd probably comment that being bald was a refreshing change, and so easy to care for while traveling.

He twisted around again, impatiently kicking his feet as the covers tangled around them. _Sleep. Just go to sleep._ Perhaps he should go see Mei. At least for a few moments, he would be able to forget the sight of Takada screaming for mercy as Shinohara laughed and slowly, piece by piece, cut the life out of the pathetic remains of what had once been a man.

Tokio

Toki trundled down the street escorted by her doting and adoring husband-to-be. The fact that her adoring fiancée was no longer Saitou, but a rather shocked Okita, made her want to throw her head back and howl with frustration. Instead, she burped, wiped her mouth on her sleeve, and gave her head, once again adorned with a battalion of gaudy ornaments, a shake, causing the little bangles to chime together like coins in a tin cup.

"Oh, look at the beautiful flowers." Okita gave her a wobbly imitation of his usual charming smile as he gestured to where a street vendor had pots of flowers for sale. "not that they compare to your beauty."

Toki glanced at them dismissively, and shrugged her padded shoulders. "Flowers make my nose itch." She grinned inwardly at the falter in the already waning smile. _Sorry Okita, Saitou already tried pointing out the beauty of nature. It didn't work for him; it won't work for you._ "I had to have them all dug out of my garden." She looked off into the distance pretending to be lost in memory, and picked at one of her fake acne eruptions for good measure. "There was one stubborn old wisteria plant that had to be chopped out with an axe… Must have been about two hundred years old. A real nuisance."

"Uh, well, I'm glad that…" Okita faltered at the thought of the desecration of a two hundred year old wisteria but rallied back. "…your garden is now a source of tranquility for you."

Toki grunted. _That comment is just too easy._ She turned and waddled delicately over to a vendor selling some of the cheapest, most hideous cloth in the whole market. "Look. Wouldn't that look perfect as seat cushions?" She paused to bat her overly kholled eyelashes at him coyly. "I'll make you some." She paused, frowning and tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Well, I'll have someone make them for me." She turned to the vendor and gestured to a bolt of cloth that looked like a cow had been sick on it, concealing a small smirk at the horrified look on Okita's face. "I just could never find the sense of learning to sew. That's what servants are for…Right? I'll have them embroider our names on them too. You can use them in that common room of yours where you play games." She motioned for the vendor to cut off an obscene amount, enough for plenty of stomach-churning cushions for the entire Shinsengumi. "Won't that be nice."

Okita made a tiny choking sound that might have been a yes. She didn't blame him. It had been a trying day on his nerves, and while he may have been equal to or better than Saitou with a sword, he didn't have Saitou's…stamina for dealing with the horrors of… well, her. So far, she had wallowed her way through a group meal at a fine restaurant with all the elegance and grace of a pig at a trough; hauled him through a hellish episode of him trying on new, not to mention gaudy, badly made, and itchily cheap robes; and made sure he knew, intimately, that she had eaten miso, garlic and liver before meeting with him and the others. _And Saitou had looked jittery over a bit of sweat and dirty fingernails._

Toki took a deep, pleased breath, turned to the rest of the market square and considered her options. There was a small booth selling noodles, a perfect place to drop food on Okita. There was the cobbler, ideal for showing off the dirty tattered socks she'd unearthed from the gardener's shed. Over at the other end of the market was a small booth selling sake and western ale, just right for a few more deep throated burps and perhaps a comment or two about flatulence and bodily odors. Of course the leavings of the cattle and horses that moved through the market would supply endless amounts of opportunities as well.

She smiled at Okita, whose large brown eyes were already looking a bit stunned. _You're no match for me little man. Next time, stick with swords. You aren't cut out for this type of combat._

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	5. Reversal of Fortune

**Terms of Engagement**

**Chapter 5: Reversal of Fortune**

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**Saitou and Okita**

The cushions arrived, and as promised Tokio's and Okita's names were emblazoned on each tacky, horrendous creation in shining silver thread that showed up exquisitely on the greenish puce-like cloth with its stain like accents of brown and sickly burgundy. The sheer speed of their arrival signaled that Okita's darling had spared no expense in getting some poor serving women to sew them quickly for her newest fiancée.

Saitou was holding one by a corner, much in the same way one would pick up a cloth that had been just used to wipe up dog vomit. His gold eyes glittered in suppressed mirth. "How lucky you are."

Okita groaned, and watched in horror as his fellow Shinsengumi ambled into the common room and stumbled to a halt, looking at the pile of nightmarish pillows with his name on them. Seirizawa pushed his way toward the front, and grimaced at the pillows as Saitou helpfully held one up so that everyone could get a good, clear look at the gift his adorable fiancée had had delivered this morning.

"A gift from the delicate Tokio." Saitou turned a wolf-grin towards Oktia. "To keep us comfortable while we play our games."

Seirizawa grimaced as a few of the men around him snickered. "Most generous. You must thank her for all of us for considering our well being."

Okita nodded, doomed.

Sarizawa gave the pillows one last look of disgust, then departed, heading towards his office snarling softly to himself. Saitou watched him disappear then tossed the pillow back onto the stack. "To think, this happiness could have been mine."

The men laughed and started settling around the room, ordering food, gossiping, and pulling out letters from loved ones to read and reread. A few slipped over to a corner and pulled out dice and markers to pass the time till the next patrol. Only a couple kept going through the room, heading up towards their barracks and some rest.

Saitou gave the pillows one last smirk then turned to go up to his own quarters. One of the perks of being promoted to captain was the luxury of having a room to himself, and he intended to make use of it to escape the idiocy that was sure to hold sway of the common room till the others went to bed. While it was generally quiet in the early evening after the mid-afternoon shift of patrols ended, it would get progressively more boisterous as more and more men came in and tried to shake off the bloody weariness of war.

"Saitou. Aren't you going to take one?" Okita called, holding up a pillow. "There's plenty."

"Okita," Saitou's voice was smooth as the finest water-washed silk as it tumbled down the stairs, "I could never deprive you of something that will bring you joy and comfort. Keep them and think of me while you relax on them…in the comfort of your own rooms."

**Tokio**

Tokio bandaged the girl's hand. It had taken her a long time to carefully pull the dislocated fingers back into alignment, and the girl had long ago collapsed into the arms of an older maid, who had been lucky enough to come out of today's excitement with only a few cane stripes across her shoulders. A few others hadn't been so lucky. The streets of Kyoto would have a few more nameless bodies littering its streets tonight.

Her uncle had received a letter from Serizawa politely informing him that Okita's parents wanted to come to the ceremony, but couldn't make it till then end of spring due to the dangers of traveling during fall and winter in the middle of a war. A reasonable and impossible to deny request that had sent her uncle into a rage. Tokio knew that her uncle had planned for his scheme to be over and done with in a month, two at most. His debts were piling up too fast, and her income from her grandfather's estate was becoming insufficient to hold off his creditors. He needed access to the entirety of the estate, but until his plans were successful, her grandfather's will kept it from his hands.

And as had happened before, everyone in the household took the brunt of her uncle's displeasure. She had hoped that if her counter plans had come about, that she and the rest of the household would be half way to Aizu before her uncle realized that his plans had crumbled. Her contacts knew to inform her of any move by Serizawa or the Shinsengumi concerning her betrothal. But the warning had come too late, after Uncle's rage had broken over them.

_I should never have depended on them for warning. I should have been expecting the backlash and prepared for it_. She wouldn't make that mistake twice. Suddenly, her plan born of conceit looked like one born of wisdom. She should have taken a different tact and taken advantage of Saitou and the first betrothal. Now, Okita was too far distant, by spring her uncle would surely have conceived of another way to get the estate.

The only thing left was Yaso. If Yaso married Saitou, in a slightly modified marriage ceremony, Saitou would hold, whether he knew it or not, her estate. Then, dear, sweet Yaso could disappear and Tokio could slip free, taking her household and what money she could and head north away from the fighting, her uncle, and the imaginary Yaso's husband, leaving her uncle penniless, powerless and at the mercy of his creditors, who doubtless would be less then merciful.

She nodded to herself as she stood up. It was a good plan. It had a few faults, to be honest many faults, but her choices were limited.

"Lady," her personal maid appeared at her elbow. The woman's face was bruised and swollen from the beating her uncle had given her. "The men have returned from their…their errand."

Tokio nodded. "Tell them to stay alert. If uncle returns, we need a warning."

Her maid nodded carefully. "They say they weren't spotted."

"Good." She looked around the room at the other "lucky" ones.

A few futons were now scattered around the kitchen floor were maids and boys now huddled under the covers. Her uncle had chosen his targets well. The stable hands and gardener had been sent out on pointless tasks into Kyoto, and while the stronger were away, he'd visited the weaker. But then uncle always chose well, which is why she wouldn't have to deal with curious relatives asking about their missing kin. There were a plethora of orphans and homeless girls and boys on the streets begging. A job to work in a fine house doing household chores would seem a blessing to someone who faced the choice of starving or selling themselves to the often violent combatants that infested the streets.

_They would have been better off as whores._

Well, it was over. Tomorrow her uncle would have returned and would pretend nothing untoward had occurred. In a few days, new faces would be in places old faces should have been, and no whisper would be heard about what had happened today.

**Saitou**

Saitou shook his head and glowered at Okita. "No."

"It wasn't as if it was my idea!" Okita wiggled. He was sitting in front of Saitou, supposedly enjoying the fact that his best friend was back safely from his mission with a calming cup of tea. It hadn't escaped his notice that Saitou was being particularly…cautious about the tea. He could almost swear his friend flinched when he reached for the tea pot to serve them more tea once. "I came back from patrol and they told me congratulations."

"Yes, congratulations. You'll make a lovely couple." Saitou smirked unpleasantly and sipped from his cup. "And your home will be a place of beauty."

"That's not funny. You've got to help me!" Okita wasn't above pleading, whining, and badgering his friend into helping him. After all any of the Shinsengumi knew that at the end of the day the living swordsman, no matter what measures he took, was the winner. The brave fool was usually lying dead on the ground.

"If you think I'm taking her back, you're mistaken." Saitou rubbed his leg lightly with his fingertips.

Okita pitched his voice into a border line whine. He knew for a fact that Saitou would do practically anything to get him to shut up. All he had to do was to be strategically annoying. "Saitou, I didn't say that. I said you needed to help me. Can't you see I'm desperate."

Saitou twitched slightly, irritated at the tone, but kept his face placid, if a bit mocking. "I can't remember an outpouring of sympathy when I was in this situation."

"I was just trying to lift your spirits." Okita let his voice edge a bit higher, closer to a whine. This was a tricky gambit. Sometimes, if he overplayed his hand, Saitou would get irritated enough to just walk away. However, if he did it just right, Saitou would cave. In a way, handling Saitou was often nearly as tricky as sword play.

Saitou sipped his tea, his eyes shifting away. "You were the one who was supposed to be gathering information on her. Use that."

"All I learned was her uncle wants me to marry her." Okita dropped his tone back slightly toward normal level. The two word order was enough to warn him Saitou was nearly ready to walk. If that happened, he have to do a running battle, hounding after Saitou till his best friend finally, out of sheer desperation to get some peace, agreed to help him. The end would be the same, but the hounding could take days, even weeks. And there was always the complication of Saitou threatening to kill him, tie him up, and have him delivered to the Isenshishi, or worse, send him back to his parents.

Saitou's lips tugged into a rather unpleasant smile. "You're just too charming for your own good." He sipped his tea. "What a shame. Really."

"Aren't you even slightly insulted?" Okita tried shifting tactics. He wasn't getting anywhere with the "help me" tact.

"Not particularly."

From the expression on his face, Okita guessed that if wolves' could purr, Saitou would be sprawled out on his back, cleaning his whiskers, and sounding like a well pleased tiger. Saitou's gold eyes were half lidded, his lips curved up in a self-satisfied, inward smile. Even the tip of his tongue flicked quickly into view as it swept up a tiny drop of tea from the corner of his lips.

"You don't find it insulting that her uncle basically declared you unfit for their family?" Okita made his tone soft, confidential, two friends discussing an intimate and maybe touchy detail tone of voice.

"All I have to do is picture the looks on my brother's and sister's faces if I had introduced her as my wife, and I seem to handle the insult surprisingly well." Saitou purred back.

_Smug wolf._ Others of the Shinsengumi were labeled wolves, but Saitou was the only one that truly was wolf-like, with his gold eyes, lean face, and sometimes feral intensity. The other members of the Shinsengumi were good men, strong men, who were dedicated to the cause, but even Serizawa sometimes handled Saitou with the same care you'd give to a half tame, dangerous animal who could turn and bite. _Foolish of them. A wolf is always loyal to its pack. They might nip and posture, but they remain loyal._

"I suppose I'll have to," Okita paused sighing softly, trying another tactic, "Request time off from my duties to look into this myself." He shook his head regretfully. "It should only take a few weeks." He looked innocently over at his friend. "You won't mind filling in for me, would you?" He tapped his chin as if thinking. "I'd guess it will take…oh three, four weeks."

Saitou's smug look disintegrated as three to four weeks of pulling double shifts; dealing with Okita's brainless, happy-go-lucky squad; and even less rest then usual loomed. The hellish thing about it was he knew Serizawa would do it. All Okita had to do was fake a few breathless coughs as he requested some time off and Serizawa would not just give him the four weeks, but an additional couple more to rest up. _Damn you!_

_And victory is mine._ Okita hid his smile as Saitou started snarling

**Tokio**

Toki smiled slightly at Serizawa as he gestured for them to step into common room of the inn that the Shinsengumi lodged in. She was now clustered into the second group of prospective brides awaiting her new/old betrothed. It had taken a bit of behind the scenes maneuvering, bribing, and trades in favors to ensure that she was once again paired with Saitou. She only wished it was for the relatively light hearted folly she had began this project with; however, with her uncle's actions, she needed to take a few drastic steps.

Her maid, a hired just for this evening, gave her a slightly encouraging look as she helped her out of her robes. Happily, this time there wasn't the myriad complications of a complex costume to negotiate, just a simple removal of a cloak to unveil her true form to an anxious wolf. She caught a sly peek at Saitou's face as she was helped out of her cloak, and the look of covert relief shimmering beneath the smoothly controlled surface was nearly enough to make her grin outright.

_Poor Saitou. I wish I could say this was for your own good this time, but uncle has left me few choices... _

"Shinoda Yaso, this is Saitou Hajime." Serizawa nodded for them to pair up and get out of the way so that he could introduce the next lucky couple.

As before, Saitou bowed pleasantly and gestured for her to proceed him to a table. She wondered, just for the mischief of it, to demand extra strong tea when she got there. Maybe she could get him to believe that it was a new fashion trend. She settled down and looked around the assembled crowd. The first round of brides was, with the exception of Tokio herself, clustered together with their beloveds toward the back of the room talking to a couple of thread worn priests. She caught Midori's eyes glittering as she inspected Saitou's lithe form as he glided to sit by her side. Sumire smirked at her, looking at Saitou as if she was the wolf and he was the temptingly plump prey, the tip of her tongue flicking over her upper lip hungrily.

Okita was sitting with the group, looking guilty and relived. She'd made a few vague excuses about having a headache to get out of that meeting, which had been met with a brief, polite, charming, and almost excruciatingly relieved note encouraging her to take care of her health and stay inside at all costs. So Tokio had stayed home, Okita was pleased to be left to himself, and Yaso had come out to stake her claim to one skittish wolf.

Saitou settled on a cushion, and looked at her warily. 'Tell me Yaso, what are you interested in?"

She wondered briefly if she should tell him the truth, that her favorite hobby lately was running a spy network, disguising herself as different people, and manipulating the people around her; then set it aside. Saitou would have to deal with the truth later. "I fear I'm a bit plain." She gave a small apologetic smile, keeping her voice as low and pleasant as possible. "My joys are quite small and very homey: cooking, sewing, arranging flowers. Nothing to speak of."

Saitou nodded, eyeing her as if he expected her to do something startling…say get up and start demanding tea sets from the other couples. She kept her expression quiet, serene, and slightly shy. He took another moment watching her.

"You have blue eyes." He finally said, looking at her with a calm detachment.

"Yes," She nodded, dropping her eyes demurely to the table top. "A trait from Aizu. My father's family has served the Lord of Aizu for generations."

He was quiet a moment, then nodded. "It's a rare color."

It was also the one part of her disguise that, as Tokio, she couldn't hide. Of course Saitou would recognize the flaw instantly. He was, after all, both intelligent and perceptive. However, she had worked out that convincingly vague answer with not too much detail, which would alert him to a lie, not too little explanation, and all based on fact. He could easily check with anyone in Aizu and find that families of long time retainers sported blue eyes, inherited from an overly frisky Lord of Aizu a few generations back.

A tea service and a small plate of food were placed before them. Saitou nearly snatched the tea pot from her grasp before even one of her fingertips could touch the smooth porcelain surface. Hiding a smirk of amusement, she looked up at him hesitantly as if afraid she'd done something horribly wrong.

"Please, allow me." He gracefully poured them both tea. "I… wouldn't want you to…spill." He gave her a small smile. "You must be cold, and handling a hot tea pot would be uncomfortable until you warm up."

"Thank you." She nodded, and accepted his explanation with a modest nod of appreciation. "You are very thoughtful."

They sipped their tea quietly. The other couples were chatting nervously with each other at the other tables. Her maid was sitting a short distance away, pretending to watch over them, but more interested in the flirtations of one of the servants who whisked around the tables delivering food, keeping tea hot and plentiful, and supplying extra cushions for delicate feminine derrieres. Saitou seemed to luxuriate in the silence, and since pleasing him was, at least for a moment, her main goal, she let him enjoy his moment of tranquility.

Saitou finished his tea and set it down. "Why are you looking for a husband in the Shinsemgumi? As retainers of Aizu, your family could find you a better match."

"True." She nodded, keeping her eyes down in a subserviently ladylike manner. "However, most men of marriageable age are fighting in the war. Father is fighting in the war." She made a tiny gesture of dismay. "He is worried that I will be left unprotected."

"So he agreed to a betrothal?" Saitou poured more tea and set it down on the table, his strong slender fingers cradling the small delicate cup carefully.

"It seemed the best solution to the problem." .She nodded, took a deep breath, as if gathering her courage, and quietly asked, "And you?"

He shrugged, "Orders mainly, but the idea has some appeal."

She wondered if she suddenly asked him for his handkerchief and ran off to pee if the idea would still have appeal. She glanced around and was amused to find a picture where the list of names had been tacked on the wall last time. She looked up to find him watching her. "You must think me very dull." She bowed her head as if embarrassed.

Saitou blinked, "No." He looked around at the other couples, who were nervously chattering like mice. "I have enough excitement in my life. I have no wish to have too much of it at home."

_Too bad Saitou. That little dream is doomed._

* * *

**Review Please!**


	6. Consequences of Action

AN: Okay, this chappie isn't all that humorous. I have to spend a bit of time on various plots so Saitou can have his fun.

**Terms of Engagement**

**Chapter 6: Consequences of Action**

* * *

**Saitou **

_Yaso._ Saitou hummed softly to himself as he walked through the market area keeping a careful eye both on his men and on the civilians around him. _Yaso._

A couple of women were arguing outside a small booth selling pots, each one shrieking obscenities and gesticulating wildly around them. A couple of his men were already slipping casually toward the two, sliding through the crowd with hardly more than a ripple of passing awareness of those they protected. The closest man paused, as if inspecting a flower display, and picked up a chrysanthemum, twirling it in his fingers as he kept careful tabs on the argument.

Saitou shifted his attention to the other side of the market, his eyes skimming through the crowd for any unusual movements. His men were carefully scattered about, pretending to shop, listening to gossip, maneuvering through and around groups of people, searching for weapons or other signs of trouble. Nothing looked out of order.

_Yaso._ Saitou hummed again, allowing himself to follow the thought. She was just what he wanted: beautiful, quiet, refined… dull… He shook the thought out of his head and let his feet seemingly drift over to where the two women were still snarling at each other. _There is no such thing as a perfect woman…if there was, she certainly wouldn't want anything to do with me_.

He had no illusions. The curses tossed at his back on nearly an hourly basis, mainly from his own men, left him with little doubt that as far as charm or even minimal social skills went, he was lacking. Not that it bothered him. Charm was little use in a war, and if there was a choice of being likable or being alive, he'd take alive.

A slender figure caught his eye. It was the maid, Yaso's maid from the night before. He stopped by a small display of ribbons, motioning the vendor to take down a blue one as he watched the maid walk through the crowd with a basket of what looked like vegetables over her arm. He paid for the ribbon and pocketed it as the woman paused by a cart selling herbs and medicines.

He frowned. Though Yaso had been wearing long sleeves and had kept her hands demurely in her lap for most of the evening, he hadn't missed seeing a heavy bruise on her left forearm when she had lifted her hand to sip tea last night. Now, her maid was buying medicines. He ambled casually over to where his man was still listening in on the argument while selecting flowers. As he approached, his subordinate made a small, discreet flicking gesture with his fingers, indicating that everything was under control, so Saitou continued past him without pausing.

He eyed the maid again then did another scan of the market. It was time to start checking on the lovely and delicate Tokio. He quickly shifted through his mind, letting what information he knew about the woman to pull itself together. Most of her babbling had revolved around clothes even the pillows she'd blessed Okita with were cloth related. He glanced again at his men then let himself be drawn over to the cloth seller.

**Tokio**

Toki stepped into the garden and bowed to her uncle. Her hands demurely folded in front of her, her eyes on the ground, her voice a soft, polite whisper. "You wished to see me, Uncle?"

He was once again seated amidst luxury. A tiny porcelain tea pot sat on a lacquered tray at his elbow. A pair of exquisite tea cups, so delicate they almost looked like they were made of flower petals sat next to it, one already filled with pale gold tea. A few scrolls of artwork sat to the other side of him, and a carved desk with ink and rice paper was in front of him. The pillows he sat on were a soft, deep crimson silk. His robes were of even finer, thicker silk that, if he were to ever step foot out of his garden, would certainly draw criticism for their prideful extravagance.

"Sit." He motioned to a cushion off to one side.

Toki bowed again and quietly, elegantly did as he indicated.

"I am considering dissolving the match between you and Okita." He frowned, picking up the tea cup of golden liquid and sipping it while watching a mild breeze rustle the leaves.

_I'm sure Okita would be relieved._ Toki bowed her head, but remained silent. It wasn't her place to comment.

"It has come to my attention that an alliance with the Shinsengumi could well be unfortunate." He took another sip of tea. "With the uncertainty of war, choosing to ally ourselves with them could very well have embarrassing, if not dangerous consequences for our family."

Toki eyed the second tea cup covertly, but kept her head down, her eyes cast modestly away from her uncle. Even base manners would dictate he offer her some tea.

"I will be discussing this with Serizawa. However, with this action, I will have to find you a husband quickly. Two failed betrothals will certainly be an embarrassment." He sighed as if regretful.

_How much time, uncle? How much time do I have?_ Toki bit her lip. She needed to know if her plan with Saitou would work, if it had time to work.

He made a gesture dismissing her. "Write a letter to Okita. Give him your apologies. We cannot risk completely offending his family. I will deliver it to Serizawa when I see him."

She rose and bowed. "As you wish, uncle."

She escaped as quickly as manners allowed and headed back to her rooms. Her maid was sitting, mending her torn yukuta. Her room was nearly back to its normal neatness. Her uncle had smashed one of her small tables that she had used for her flower arrangements, and the small celadon bowl her father had given her was now replaced with a raku dish with a few reeds waving tranquilly over it.

"It seems I am to be betrothed to a third." Toki growled as she went to her writing desk and started sorting through her information for likely candidates for her new bridegroom.

"A…a third…the dishonor…" Her maid looked aghast.

"Yes." She sat down on a cushion, her long fingers flicking through her correspondence. "Though, I doubt he thinks on that, not with his debts nipping so insistently on his heels."

Her maid nodded, returning to her repairs.

The candidates were few. Given that her uncle needed to marry her off quickly, it eliminated many that were out of Kyoto. She could also eliminate those of good families. Good families wanted, even in wartime, a decent interval for an engagement to arrange for a proper wedding. She could also eliminate any in positions of authority, with the war raging around them and their careers hanging by whispers, a bride with two failed engagements would be too much of a liability. She could also eliminate those whose eventual death would cause too much inquiry into her or more importantly her uncle's private affairs. Which left her with three: Mukatsukaseru, a small merchant with ties to the West; Kodaijin, a decrepit old man who spent his declining years sitting in tea houses paying for companionship; and Hanzaisha, who she acknowledged she didn't have much information on, which in itself was suspicious.

She set the letters aside and looked out the window. She either needed to rush things along with Saitou, or she had to run, leaving her uncle with her estate, and the power the money would give him to hunt her down.

_Saitou it is then…_She bit her lip, wondering how to… well, there was that… She blushed then considered the alternatives. The thought of Mukatsukaseru, with his yellowy skin and greasy hair touching her body, or worse, Kodaijin with his hands shaking with palsy settling himself between her thighs made her stomach twist. Then there was Hanzaisha, with his thick heavy hands and neck who looked at the world with dead black eyes.

_A husband has rights. A wedding night has always been a strong possibility._ She took a deep breath.

She considered what she knew of Saitou, how he was, even with the horrors she'd thrown at him steadfastly polite and considerate to her. Then there was him, his physical self, slender, strong, with long silky hair that seemed to beckon her fingers to tangle in it, his elegant swordsman's hands. She would be less then honest if she didn't admit, at least privately to herself, she'd let her mind roam free about what it would be like to have him touch her, to feel those long, strong fingers loosen her robes and caress her skin, to lay beneath him as his body strained against hers.

_Yes, better it be with Saitou, than with the others._

However, that led to another problem. One which Sumire or Midori would probably crow in triumph over. She had no idea how to go about seducing him. She straightened her letters and set them back into her desk, and pulled out her paper and ink set. It was time to write a few letters. There was no use having an intelligence network if you didn't use it when you needed information.

**Saitou**

The cloth seller was more than helpful. Choju Kojiro, the lovely Tokio's adoring uncle, spent quite a bit of money on the finest silks that could be acquired. Of Tokio, the merchant could not remember, but he did remember a lady with Choju. From her description, a young, attractive, well-dressed, slender girl/woman with pleasant manners and a quiet disposition, probably Choju's lover.

Saitou finished his patrol and slipped over to the residence the merchant had directed him to. It was one of the nicer places in Kyoto. Not so wealthy as to attract the attention of the rebels, who seemed to have a penchant for burning down the estates of those who had the audacity of being financially better off then them, but not so meager as to classify as anything but the residence of one who had no monetary worries.

He settled himself on a street corner, concealed from direct view by the soft fall of a eucalyptus bush. He didn't have long to wait as Choju made his appearance rather quickly and set off in the opposite direction from where he stood. He considered briefly following the man, but then discarded it to see if he could spot the lovely, ever delightful Tokio. While women didn't generally go out in public, especially with a war ripping the streets into bloody tatters, it didn't mean that he couldn't do a bit of harmless snooping. He grinned and settled back to wait for night to come and signal the beginning of his harmlessness.

Few interesting things happened. A teenage boy and girl came out and scampered around sweeping up early autumn leaves from the front. An old man trundled himself down the street peering nearsightedly into the gathering dusk. A young man, peering cautiously up and down the street came out after him and lit the lantern that hung over the gate, then still looking about suspiciously, disappeared back inside.

Saitou waited patiently, then when dark held full sway slunk down the street melting himself into the shadows. The wall around the garden was little challenge. He dropped to the earth on the other side as quietly as a leaf.

A few tapers were lit in the house; more came from the kitchen building in the back. He considered a second then ghosted over to the house. A few screens had been pushed back allowing inquisitive wolfish eyes a view of the interior of the house. He found, not surprisingly, a hall. He absently took note of the well cared for interior and expensive paper screens, but flickered past to the next opening. It was a bedroom, the small size and sparse jumbled furniture declared it a room that wasn't generally used. He glided over to the next opening, a small window that overlooked the garden. He listened intently before peering in.

_Yaso?_ She was sitting at a desk writing. Her long black hair flowing down her shoulders and back to pool around her as she sat absorbed in her task. She was dressed in a simple robe over, he was sure though at his vantage point he couldn't see it, a yukuta. The long sleeves of both were tied back out of the way of the ink she was writing with. A maid was kneeling with her back towards him smoothing a futon out and silently fussing over her mistress's bedding.

He slid back out of sight and glowered at the dark garden. _What is Yaso doing in Tokio's house?_ His mind shifted through a few possibilities, but few seemed probable, even fewer seemed logical.

Yaso's voice interrupted his downward slide into confusion. "You may go Meido. I'll be fine."

"Thank you, Lady Tokio, may you have pleasant dreams." The maid's voice was followed by a few rustling sounds. "Do you wish me to close the window?"

"No. I'll do that when I'm done." Yaso…Tokio?... answered.

_What the…!!!_ Tokio was Yaso? Yaso was Tokio? Was she plotting treachery, or was this some silly girlish game? His mind twisted around trying to figure out how her pretending to be ugly and driving him –and Okita- nearly insane with horror over the thought of marrying her, just to turn around and introduce herself as a potential bride under a different name could accomplish anything. If it was an Ishenshishi plot, its goal was pretty twisted.

"Would my lady like me to bring her some more tea before I retire?" The maid sounded hesitant to withdraw.

Saitou chanced another peek. The maid was standing, hesitating, by the door. It was Tokio's maid. At least he was pretty sure it was Tokio's maid. The woman had been severely beaten, her face was mottled by bruises and her eyes were swollen into small slits. By the way she held herself, Saitou guessed there were other injuries probably to her back or legs.

"I'm fine." Tokio-Yaso stood up and waved the woman out of the room. "I'm going to sleep now."

The maid dithered in the door a second more, then awkwardly bowed and left. Tokio turned and stepped over to the futon, absently dropping her robe and spreading it over the blankets the maid had already laid over the mat. Saitou shifted silently away, but not without first noting a few things. Things like the bruise on her arm that he had noted earlier wasn't the only one, a matching bruise wrapped itself around her other arm. Nor did he miss the discoloration across her collar bone, that he could bet spread upwards to her shoulder. He'd make a small wager that if Tokio would allow it he'd be able to count the finger marks where she'd been grabbed and shaken.

He growled softly to himself, diligently ignoring the fact part of his mind had been considering grabbing her and shaking a confession out of her. A few seconds later the taper in Tokio's room went out, and only a few sounds of settling in for the night could be heard. He glanced over to the kitchen, he was sure he'd find something useful if he caught the maid, but then Tokio, or her uncle, would know he'd been there, and he wasn't sure he wanted to tip his hand yet.

He slunk over to the other building. A few young voices could be heard whispering small good nights to each other. No helpful screens had been left ajar, but counting the number of voices, he was sure there were only a few of people in there. If he added the maid, the old man, and the young suspicious one, he could probably account for five servants total. A substantial amount, but… he looked around the shadowy grounds and considered Choju's luxurious, pampered air…not enough. Especially if one counted the smell of horses he could smell on the still night air.

He took one last look around then left the way he'd entered. As his feet silently hit the ground on the street side of the wall, he quickly disappeared into the shadows, his mind carefully examining each small fact he'd learned.

First, Tokio was Yaso, or should he say Yaso was Tokio and neither of them was what she pretended to be. He contemplated it for a moment, letting the thought tumble in his mind. When nothing came of it, he put it aside and considered the second problem.

Tokio's maid had been beaten. Not entirely unheard of, many people beat their servants. It hardly was worth noting, except for one, the apparent viciousness of the assault, and two, the bruises on Tokio. Again, a woman getting beaten was not unheard of, or even worth commenting on, but the timing was interesting. He hadn't seen any bruises on Tokio, the repulsive version, and Okita, who under all his layers of foolishness was sharp and perceptive, hadn't mentioned that his buxom bride to be had been hurt. He'd need to double check that, but it still pointed to a short time frame from Tokio driving off her suitors to her sitting demurely charming him into marriage, a time frame that included a beating.

Third thing, Okita had pointed out that Uncle Choju would lose everything the day Tokio married. A circumstance Saitou doubted the man relished, yet paradoxically was striving toward. Why beat Tokio and her maid into doing the one thing he should try to prevent, marriage? Unless, Uncle Choju, who had been the one to end his engagement with Tokio was being forced to marry Tokio off, and was using every means short of outright…What? disobedience to an order?...to prevent the marriage from happening. Who could order Choju to marry Tokio off? Her father. Hmmm. It didn't sound quite right.

A girl's game? Tokio, the real one, was rich, maybe a bit spoiled, and with a war on her doorstep unable to do more than tinker in her garden, drink tea, and write letters that only had a slim chance of arriving at their destination. Could Tokio and her marriage plans be no more than the past time of a bored girl? He slipped down a few streets contemplating her actions. She was, whether Choju was involved or not, clever. She'd thought fast on her feet at the garden tea party. She had been equally quick witted as she had sat in front of him pretending to be shy, demure Yaso. Indeed, if you put the two together the only definite things he could say was Tokio was crafty, intelligent, not afraid to cast aside small societal taboos -he grinned at the thought of small, delicate, shy Yaso marching up to a tea pavilion and demanding a tea set in Tokio's grating voice- and devious. But young.

He slipped into a small noodle shop that stayed open late in defiance of the chaos around. It wouldn't last. He knew it, as did the other patrons, many of whom, like him, turned a blind eye towards uniforms, faces, and alliances in exchange for a hot meal late at night. A bowl of soba was placed before him even as he sank down at a table, all of which were arranged against the walls for the comfort of the establishment's paranoid patrons.

He picked up his trail of thought as he stirred his noodles around in their bowl. Yaso, without makeup, seemed around sixteen to nineteen years old, still young and prone to hasty decisions. He slurped a mouthful of noodles, and pondered the teenage mind. After a moment of thankful prayer that he'd outgrown that stage, he slurped down more noodles.

_What to do. Turn her and her uncle into Serizawa? Two dead bodies, no threat, no problems. _He ate a few more bites. He didn't like that solution. It was the correct one. The right one. The one he should take. _Nope. Not doing it. Why? _He stirred his noodles. _I want payback…_ He nodded to himself and took another bite. _Alright, how about letting her marry Okita? Watch Okita sweat it out with the ugly Tokio, and if she backs out, then tell Serizawa. _He considered it as a pot of tea appeared on his table as a waiter hurried by. _That would do for Okita, but would Tokio really suffer? Yes, at the end, when Serizawa ordered her and her uncle's execution, she'd suffer…but…_ Again, he discarded it. He contemplated his decision then blinked when his nimble mind supplied the answer.

He wanted her. He'd dragged his feet into this whole marriage fiasco because he didn't want a weak piece of fluff to drag after him like an anchor around his throat. When faced with Tokio's ugly version, he'd wished for someone clean, smart, and at least minimally attractive. After meeting sweet, delicate Yaso, he'd wanted someone interesting. Tokio, the real one, was cunning, quick, beautiful, and he had no doubts would keep him busy trying to outthink her for the rest of their lives. _But I still want payback…_

He drank his tea, finished his noodles, ignored a few faces he was sure he'd have to kill at a later date, and slipped cautiously out of the restaurant. As he made his way back to headquarters, a plan slipped into his mind. He poked at it a few times as he made his way up the stairs to his rooms. As he quickly bathed and dressed for sleep, he polished a few details and buffed it to a mellow shine. _What was that saying the Westerners have…Do unto others…_

The next morning he rushed through his sword practice and skirted breakfast so he could catch Serizawa before the rush of the day intruded. He cornered the man in his office, tidying up his desk for the new problems that were sure to come speeding through his office. His commander looked harried, even at this early hour, but Saitou was on a mission and his superior's stress level wasn't his concern.

"Sir, I have a bit of news about Okita's perspective bride." Saitou felt his eyebrow twitch in surprise as Serizawa's eyes lit up eagerly. "I was doing a little investigating of gambling halls," Not entirely the truth, but not entirely a lie. He'd ambled into one on patrol yesterday then had ambled right back out. "It seems Choju Kojiro, Tokio's uncle has heavy gambling debts," A small truth learned from Okita's investigation, which would support… "and seems owe most of these debts to people who support the rebels." …an outright lie.

Serizawa frowned, but Saitou, not wanting to spoil his game, or to implicate Tokio, leapt in with the next piece of information. "I haven't found anything to prove he has any sympathies towards them…" His commander relaxed, but looked slightly disappointed. "but it bears investigation."

"And Tokio? It wouldn't do to have a Ishinshishi spy married to one of our officers." Serizawa looked almost hopeful.

"As I said, there seems to be no sympathy involved. However, Choju might be using his connection to the Shinsengumi to protect himself from his debtors." Saitou let his tale composed of truth, half-truth, and complete lies ferment in Serizawa's head a few moments as the man drummed his fingers on his desk.

"We might be able to use this." Serizawa nodded thoughtfully, just as Saitou had hoped. "Look into this. We have till spring to deal with the problem."

"Of course." He bowed and stepped back out of the room, content with his gambit.

He grinned to himself as he went down stairs to see if he could still find any food before he had to go out on patrol. It was going to be a busy day, and this evening he and the rest of the second wave of newly betrothed couples would be out replaying the tea ceremony in the park. This time he wouldn't be the one to suffer… The grin became wider and a bit more feral as he made his way through the common room, scaring a few of the newer recruits of the Shinsengumi.

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**Please Review.**


	7. Fair Play

AN: I actually spent hours researching Tokio's part, so take advantage ladies! This also took so long to get to you because I had to get a copy of the _Kokinshu_.

**Terms of Engagement**

**Chapter Seven: Fair Play**

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**Tokio**

She'd been practicing all day. Her maid had long ago given up trying to make sense of her behavior and was now quietly fretting to herself as she busily sewed up her wedding clothes, determined that at the least her mistress would look proper for her very un-proper wedding. Toki let her fret and continued with the advice she was given on how to seduce Saitou. The contact had given her explicit advice on how it should be done, and considering this contact, one of her newest and most prized in her quest to deal with Saitou, she was willing to do as the woman recommended.

She set her small mirror down and picked up the letter again.

_The most important thing you must remember is never to allow him to drink more than one small cup of sake. Some women try to seduce a man by getting him drunk. Do not do this under any circumstance. He gets violent very quickly when he drinks. Instead, buy the finest tea you can. He prefers earthy teas, such as rice tea, but for a tea ceremony, try high quality gyokuro. He is one of the few men I know that will appreciate the subtleties of that tea._

Seeing that she had little choice, the fine tea seemed an excellent idea. She knew, since she'd 'visited' many of the previous couples' tea ceremonies that many women had encouraged their men to drink heavily. Midori had actually set the tea ceremony aside completely and only served sake.

_Next, ignore the advice of other women. Saitou needs careful handling in this respect. He is too intelligent, and too private, to allow crude advances._

Toki felt herself safe from that. A few of her other contacts had given her advice that she was sure would get her gutted, quickly, if she didn't die of embarrassment first. Somehow, publicly, or even semi-publicly grabbing any part of Saitou's anatomy seemed more of a suicide attempt then a seduction. She'd been stretching his patience when she'd latched onto his arm as her overweight alter ego. She didn't want to know what he'd do if she latched onto more private parts.

_Flirting is pointless with him. Even if he doesn't say anything –he does have excellent manners when he chooses to use them- he will get irritated._

She spent a few moments trying to picture herself giggling at Saitou and the inevitable result. She doubted it would be fatal, at least physically, but it would probably end in her marriage to Kodaijin. She put the letter away with the rest of her gathered intelligence, and got up. It was time for Yaso to go out wolf hunting.

**Saitou**

He pocketed the small book with a smile. It was nice of the Westerners to come along and introduce such convenient little things such as pocket sized note books. So handy when one needed to take notes of enemy activities and plot against your future wife. He was actually looking forward to this evening's battle, especially since he now knew it was a battle.

He'd been soundly whipped from the field of combat last time and this time he was determined to be the victor. He'd carefully gone over every conversation he'd had with Tokio, whether in her hideous disguise or as Yaso, and he'd patiently researched his scheme. Tonight, it would be Tokio that would cringe in horror of her marriage to be. He'd have to be careful though, he didn't want her to escape, but he'd come up with an excellent plan for ensuring her presence till their wedding.

Saitou took a deep, pleased breath and looked around the garden. Once again it was decorated with white paper lanterns, flowers, and music. The small gazebos were already set with tea services, double checked by servants to make sure that there was one set in each small building –no one wanted a repeat of Tokio's search. Nightingales sang sweetly in the gathering dusk and all that was needed was his bride to be.

Serizawa walked past carefully inspecting the preparations. Saitou glanced around and not noting any perspective brides or their chaperones in the area, went to make sure his darling wouldn't make a sudden dash for freedom.

"Sir." He came up next to his superior as the man looked over a nearby table with dainty sweets spread on it.

Serizawa glanced over at him, "Any word on Choju?"

"No." Saitou shook his head, putting on a semi-concerned expression. "I have, however, heard a few rumors from reliable sources." Actually he'd listened to the drunken ramblings of one of his less intelligent informants. "It might be prudent to take precautions with the women." He made a small sweep of his hand toward the preparations. "The Ishinshishi seem to be taking an interest in our new brides."

Serizawa frowned, glancing around. "Hmmm. I see."

Saitou nodded, bowing away as the voices of women whispered through the dusk. He'd let Serizawa consider that for awhile. He'd corner his superior later to sprinkle some fertilizer on the tiny seed he'd just planted.

The women arrived like a flock of silken birds. Their chaperones twittering excitedly as they darted around their charges flicking their slender fingers to arrange already exquisitely arranged obis, smoothing perfectly smooth sleeves, and patting flawlessly silken hair into place. Saitou spotted Tokio being fussed at toward the back of the gaggle.

Serizawa came forward and soon had the chaperones sitting contentedly in a small gazebo with comic dancers and trays of treats. Saitou with the rest of his fellow grooms were paired up with their partners and sent off to drink tea, and, at least in Saitou's case, wage covert warfare with and on their intendeds.

Saitou smirked to himself as Tokio bowed modestly before him in greeting. It was going to be a beautiful night.

**Tokio**

Saitou was, if anything, even more appealing than he was the first time they'd had tea in this park. His dark hair was only loosely tied at the nape of his neck, and soft strands had escaped to brush enticingly around his jaw. He was dressed in a soft amber kimono with an almost invisible pattern of autumn leaves, and a rust colored hakima.

Tokio followed him along the gently lit path to their teahouse, watching how, as he passed under each swaying lantern, his hair would tangle in the gentle twilight wind. _Watch it now! You're the one who's supposed to seduce him, not the other way around._

She took a deep breath and concentrated on making her movements as graceful and flowing as possible. Even if his back was towards her, she needed to be at her best all night. Her source said smooth, fluid movements were one of the keys to attracting Saitou.

…_The trick to seducing him is to make that quick mind of his do your work for you. He is very observant and you can use that to make him observe you. Flow like water and let him imagine what it would be like to immerse himself in you._

So she flowed, each step placed delicately on the path, each movement as she settled down on the cushions in the small teahouse delicately graceful, each turn of her head, each curve of her lip, each movement of her hands an elegant dance. As she went through the opening moves of the tea ceremony, she started the second part of her recommended plan.

**Saitou**

The plan wasn't working well. He'd been looking for an opening, watching her carefully to choose the perfect moment to begin, and what he encountered was…beauty. He'd met other beautiful women, and he'd bedded his fair share of them, but this was entirely unfair. And what was worse is that he didn't even want to complain about the low blow she was undoubtedly aiming at him. To his chagrin, he wanted to just keep watching her, to enjoy the serene, calm movements, to preen at the thought of her being his.

He watched as she bent her head, her eyes cast demurely down as her hands wove beautiful patterns as they moved through the ceremony of lighting the fire. _Ah, the moment…_ He wrenched his gaze away. For half a second, he was free from her wiles so took a breath to begin his attack. He fixed a pleasant smile on his face and looked back up at her.

Then she went for the kill.

She was looking at him under her eyelashes. As he opened his mouth, she dropped her eyes with a mysterious smile and went back to her chore.

He closed his mouth before any winged creatures could fly into it. _Whaaa…? Oh, by all the spirits, I think I underestimated her…_

**Tokio**

It wasn't working and she felt like a fool. Saitou was sitting on the tatami looking just as cool and composed as if she were no more than a servant who was fumbling through making his dinner. She eyed the tray of food and bottle of sake that were to be the next step. _Should I just do as Midori did? She did seduce Momiji. Should I…_

She finally got the fire lit, feeling like the most inept moron in the world. _Take a deep breath. It isn't a complete loss. Just regroup and try again. Perhaps during the walk afterwards…_

As her hands swept through the ceremony, she went back to the advice she'd been given. _Fondling Saitou. No. I want to survive the evening. Directly, and crudely proposition him_. She looked over at him as he calmly sipped from the sake bowl. _Eeeerrr. Probably not the best idea. Getting Saitou drunk and throwing herself at him. _It only took a few seconds to remember that Saitou was a violent drunk and getting gatotsued wasn't part of a viable seduction. _I need more information!_

"Though these branches/ spring from a single trunk bright/ hues adorn only/ one side surely it is true/ that autumn rises in the west." (1) Saitou murmured softly as he looked out over the lantern lit trees.

"Oh!" She looked up at him slightly surprised. She looked down again as he continued to look away. "How beautiful."

"Hmmm." He nodded slightly.

She nodded and pulled herself together. She thought a second. "The weaver's maiden/ longs for autumn's coming is/ it because a bridge/ of many-colored leaves will/ span the river of heaven." (2) It wasn't as bitter-sweetly appropriate as his, but still good.

Saitou looked back at her with a slight smile curving his lips. "Ah, you know poetry."

She nodded, "Yes." She looked shyly at him then glanced away with a slight smile. _Best keep up with what I started._

Saitou gave a soft contented sigh, "Somehow I knew you'd appreciate the finer things of life." He gave her a gentle smile. "While it doesn't look like it right now, I have always planned on becoming a poet."

_A poet? Saitou Hajime, who scares the bejessus out of his own men, a poet?_ Tokio floundered.

"Once this war is over…" He sighed again, a soft dreamy sigh. "We will move to a mountain where the cranes will fly over our heads…"

_Cranes…mountain…?_She looked for signs of head trauma. _Or was it the sake… _She looked suspiciously at the now empty bowl of sake. There hadn't been much in it to begin with, and she'd shared it with him…but… _How much do I really know about him? I know his schedule. I know his habits, but __**him…**_

**Saitou**

The opening salvo looked like it hit the target. His sweetheart was looking just a little lost. She did it well, damn her. The widening of dark blue eyes, the soft flutter of lashes, the tiny sweet press of her lips made him want to lean forward and taste those lips and feel those lashes flutter against the skin of his face. He forced his eyes away again. _Time for the next round._

"Finally it is/ our long-awaited meeting night-/ may the autumn mists/ spread across the river of/ heaven that dawn may never come." (3) He glanced over at her. He guessed, when he chose that poem that she'd be young enough to fall for its overblown romanticism, and by the startled "O" of her lips and the blush staining her cheeks, he figured he'd guessed right. Unfortunately, the little "O" was also giving him ideas, dirty ones. _Have to go see Mei after this, or my game will be over before it even begins._

Flustered as she was, her hands and movements were still smooth and flowing as she set the tiny trays their food had been on aside. He watched their movements, idly wondering, since his mind had dropped into the gutter at the little "O", what those little hands would feel like stroking his body. Since it was time for her to straighten the mats and ready for the tea, he stood with a bow and left.

_Score: two_. But how many had she scored? He twitched his hakima slightly, and grudgingly acknowledged she'd make a few well placed hits.

He glanced behind him, noting her absorption in her tasks and walked a few paces away to the shelter of a tree's dark shadow to study her. If he'd had any doubts about his plan, they were now gone. He wanted her and, after a suitable period of getting a bit of harmless vengeance, he intended on having her. He watched the sway of her body as she went about her tasks, imagining what it would finally be like to have that body beneath him, to have those hands slide down his skin, to have that sweet mouth and little pink tongue taste him. That her lovely body was paired with a sharp, devious mind, only made her more desirable. _Still, payback first…_

**Tokio**

As she settled back into place, she looked around hurriedly, the first ungraceful move she'd made that night, but since she was now hidden behind the low walls of the teahouse, she felt safe enough.

_Finally it is/ our long-awaited meeting night-/ may the autumn mists/ spread across the river of/ heaven that dawn may never come_. How many nights as a young girl had she dreamed over those lines, imagining some great lord to come striding into her life in a flow of silk and court her with those sweet words as autumn leaves swayed slowly on the breeze? And where did those words come from? Saitou, who, if she was successful, would be her husband. She bowed her head, stealing herself from her dreams. _Girlish dreams. I'm a woman now, and I have responsibilities. If uncle's tantrum the other night didn't drive that point home deep enough, perhaps I should visit the ones who didn't survive his temper._

The soft sound of Saitou's feet on the steps caught her attention, and she took a deep breath and prepared to finish what she started. As the next phase of the ceremony began, she again slipped a few looks and mysterious smiles in, she doubted they worked, at least until she noticed that the nearly unflappable Wolf of Mibu was shifting his weight slightly, his long fingers tugging, nearly unnoticeably on his hakima. She poured the tea and offered him the bowl, taking the opportunity, as she lowered her eyes modestly, to take a better look at why he was twitching.

It took effort not to simultaneously grin in triumph and blush bright red. _So it does work! But now what…_ She settled back into her place with a gulp of apprehension. _I don't know what to do! I only asked how to seduce him, not drag him to the bushes and…uhmmm… consummate our relationship._

"Have you ever lived on a mountain?" Saitou passed the bowl back to her.

"No." She struggled to keep her hands steady, peering up at him through her eyelashes. "I've only lived in Aizu and Kyoto. I've never even been to a mountain."

"Neither have I." He smoothed his fingers along the grain of the tatami mat. "I've always wanted to live on one, to be able to see the clouds spread beneath me, to watch the sun play across the peaks."

_Cold. That's going to be cold._ Tokio worried. She didn't have to live on a mountain to recognize that the higher the mountain the longer the snow stayed on the mountain. To live so far up that you could look down on the clouds… _Very cold._

"After this," Saitou gestured around them with a sweep of his fingers, "I never wish to step foot in a city again."

Tokio nodded. "Yes, I can understand."

A happy smile broke over Saitou's face. "I knew you would." He leaned slightly forward, as if sharing a secret. "I feel I can be my true self with you, without need to pretend to be what the others expect of me… I am so tired of all this…" He gestured back towards where the other teahouses and the other members of the Shinsengumi were.

She just nodded. _That's fine. All is still going well. Staying with him was never in the plans, so he can freeze on a mountain and write poetry all he wants._

"We'll be very happy." He accepted the tea bowl back and took a sip. He looked sadly around them then shook his head. "When this war is over, I never want to see another unbeautiful thing in my life." He looked up at her with a heartfelt smile. "We'll leave all this behind. We can fish in the streams, plant rice on the mountainside, pick berries on the bushes, and live in harmony with nature."

Tokio wondered if she should keep giving him mysterious looks and shy smiles. He obviously was insane. She secretly looked at him as he passed the tea bowl back to her. Was an insane spouse better than an old one? She refilled the bowl and passed it back. _At least he's harmlessly insane. If dreaming about raising rice on a mountain makes his life more bearable, then who am I to judge?_

Saitou

His darling was looking a bit panicked. He wondered if it was the rice, the fishing, or the living in harmony with nature that got her nervous. He could guess that she'd spend a few glorious days considering what it would be like living in a freezing shack on the side of a mountain with a husband determined to write poetry and live off berries then he'd really get to work.

He sipped his tea with a warm feeling of contentment as she fumbled for the small tray of sweet cake that had sat untouched. _Payback…sweet, sweet payback._

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Review please! 

**Story Notes**: (I spent so much time researching this that I thought I'd share so you'd understand what is going on.) Much of my research is from online, from _The Daughter of the Samurai_, _The Pillowbook of Sei Shonagon_, and _The Tale of Gengi_.

(1 - 3):- Kokinshu: Autumn 1

The Kokinshu- This was originally a multi-book set of poetry and has been around for more than a thousand years. It was considered to be one of the marks of achievement in a lord or lady to be able to quote quickly and accurately from this set of poetry. It would have been common for a samurai to know at least some of this book (if not all of it), and very likely that Tokio, the daughter of a noble's retainer, to be familiar with it. It can now be picked up in one happy volume from any bookseller. I had to special order mine, but it was worth it!

Grabing Saitou- It was highly **not recommended **to touch a samurai. It wasn't completely unheard of for a samurai to kill someone for daring to touching him. Women would not willingly touch a samurai, much less grab private parts of a samurai.

Tea Ceremony- Information from teamuse dot com slash article underscore 001001 dot html.

Saitou's smiles- Yes, some authors say Saitou's smiles look creepy. However, after looking carefully at the manga, Saitou can do an amazing job of making himself look pleasant. His first appearance as Fujita Goro in book seven (pg. 19) is completely charming. He even looks happy and friendly in his first appearance as himself on page 7-10 when he is smiling as he says he's going to kill the Batousai. He can smile, and **wow**! he's beautiful when he does. His smile isn't so much creepy as it is eerie, since there is no trace of the wolf until he chooses to show his fangs.

Saitou's twitching while seated- Even small movements when seated were considered suspect. Small children during this time period were expected to sit completely still when seated. It would be a huge embarrassment to be caught shifting around, even slightly. For Saitou, a trained samurai, to shift his weight even a tiny bit, it would mean he was in **a lot** of discomfort and even then it would be humiliating if Tokio pointed it out that she caught him twitching around, and not because of the sexual overtones.

Saitou's "Dreams"- Rice is not usually grown on mountains. It needs temperate climates, large quantities of water, and fertile soil to grow, so it is usually grown close to lowland rivers. Yes, there are some places that use terracing for rice patties, but that is a very labor intensive farming method and it's not practical for a man and his wife to tend all the levies and drainage systems. Saitou knows this, so does Tokio.


	8. Hoisted by Your Own Petard

AN: Hello again. Yes, I am sorry this is late…again. School has started and I couldn't get as much time in as I thought for research and writing.

**Terms of Engagement**

**Chapter Eight: Hoisted by Your Own Petard**

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Saitou

The small seed he' planted in Serizawa's mind didn't need any fertilizer. It sprang full grown overnight. Saitou spent the morning smirking and reworking his plans to accommodate the new arrangements. It was fine by him. It added to the fun. After all, there was nothing like a captive audience.

"…so therefore the wedding ceremonies will be held tomorrow at noon." Serizawa glowered at his men, many of which were contemplating various sharp objects and how best to use them on themselves.

"A few, such as Okita, who's family has already requested to attend the ceremony, will be excused."

Okita looked like he was about to faint with relief. Under a mask of indifference Saitou felt the same. It would ruin everything if Okita married Tokio before he had the chance to. While it was amusing to contemplate Okita's sure to be horrified look as Tokio waddled her well padded self up to him during the marriage ceremony, and his darling's maneuverings to avoid the marriage or encourage the marriage, Saitou didn't feel generous.

"Everyone else will report to the common room to be fitted for their clothing directly after lunch today." Serizawa nodded to where a small army of tailors stood waiting to the side.

Okita had his head bowed when Saitou got up to leave as Serizawa disappeared back upstairs to his office. Saitou could hear his friend mumbling to himself and occasionally nodding.

"What's with you?" Saitou nudged him slightly.

The younger man looked up at him soulfully. "Saitou, is it bad to pray for your fiancée to die a sudden death?"

"Probably, so don't do it." He gave Okita a wolf's smile. "Save your prayers of the Batousai."

"I'll end up married to her." Okita slumped. "I'm dodging right now, but you can't win a fight by dodging alone. I'll end up… How about praying for me to die suddenly?"

"Don't joke about that." Saitou yanked him to his feet. "Your parents will take one look at your beautiful bride and that will be the end of your troubles. You just have to survive till then."

"They are very traditional. They might not…"

"Stop worrying about the future." Saitou grinned. "Who knows, maybe Serizawa will change his mind again and I'll end up with her."

**Tokio**

Toki carefully set the ink bowl down and picked up her brush. She definitely needed more information about Saitou. Her sources had supplied her with an abundance of information about his daily habits, but, as was made so clear last night, she still knew little about the man himself. She needed to remedy that situation as quickly as possible. But how to ask?

_May I ask, has Saitou ever shown an unhealthy interest in poetry?_

_Your pardon, but is Saitou insane?_

_Please tell me, if you can, has Saitou received any serious blows to the head causing him to become irrationally fixated on mountains and rice?_

None of them sounded promising. She tapped her brush against the side of the bowl, then after a second of set it down. She was still too unsettled to write. Last night had been both a triumph and a disaster. Why hadn't she been warned of Saitou's…peculiarities? Not that it mattered. She would be rid of him as soon as she could, fleeing north away from her uncle and the revolution.

She glanced over to where Meido was still resolutely sewing up her wedding garb. She turned quickly around before the other woman could see her and smiled to herself. Last night also had been rather…interesting. She'd never dreamed that she could have any influence on a man. Her life had been ruled first by her father, then by her uncle. Men in general were forbidden from her presence unless she was carefully escorted by one of them and preferably a maid or two to keep her well insulated from any unworthy attentions. The few men she was acquainted with were servants who were too in awe of her and her uncle to be considered more than what they were, shop keepers who repelled her with their crass manners and dirty hands, and her uncle's friends who watched her with hot, disgusting eyes as she served them tea when they visited.

Saitou had, despite his…problems, been the first man she'd ever stopped and noticed. The first whose attention she'd actually courted.

She felt a curl of excitement as she remembered. It had been so simple, so perfect. To see a man react to her, to see the effect she could have, the power she held. How absolutely perfect that the man had been Saitou. She wanted to do it again. She wanted to see Saitou's eyes as they traced her movements. She wanted to see his body react. She wanted to know what more she could do and where it would lead.

She looked back at her brush, gave a semi-guilty look over her shoulder at Meido, then with a grin picked up her brush and began writing. Who cared that Saitou wanted to live on a mountain, she wanted to play first.

_Thank you so much for your invaluable advice. It worked beautifully, but now I fear I must trouble you again, if you would not mind. Having caught Saitou's attention, I now need to know…_

"Lady." One of the younger maids called softly from the other side of the screen. "A message has arrived from your much honored cousin."

Toki smiled. Her much honored cousin was really her informants. Her uncle cared little who wrote to her or who wrote back, women in his view were stupid creatures, so if she and her beloved cousin chose to write six or more letters to each other a day, he brushed it aside as girlish chatter, completely unworthy of his attention.

The smile died fast when she opened the letter. She sat wide eyed and stunned.

_Please. Please. Tell me he… Even he could not be so… Amaterasu have mercy. We are all dead._

She looked back at Meido, who still sat placidly sewing.

_He's killed us all. We have no choice but to run and hope they kill him first._

The bell ringing that a visitor was waiting outside made her jump. She quickly stuffed the letter into her sleeve and straightened her writing desk, hiding the other letters.

**Saitou**

He grinned as he stood outside his darling's home. He was waiting patiently for her uncle to receive him so he could get the joyous announcement over with. However, it was taking forever for the maid to return. He wondered for a few moments if his soon to be dear uncle was still in bed. It was after all only late afternoon. He could have chosen to sleep in a little.

He kept a smile plastered on his face as he waited. He was sure that their abrupt marriage would seriously dent whatever plan was forming in her delightful mind. He'd heard about the shopping trip Okita had had to endure, and wondered what she'd have done to him, given the opportunity.

The smile faltered a few seconds when he really stopped and considered. Last night, she'd nearly been more than he could handle. It had taken him an amazing amount self control and determination to not grab her slender form and drag her off to one of the dark, private areas of the park and thoroughly explore every curve and taste her body offered. He still wanted it.

The woman was trouble and he welcomed it, craved it, would scheme, trick, and lie to get it. And the only thing holding him standing waiting and smiling at her door was the thought that she was his. All he had to do was be patient and by this time the next day he could indulge in all the chaos she'd bring to his life.

The maid finally scurried back. "I'm so sorry, but the master has gone for the evening."

"Tell the lady of the house I am here and Serizawa has commanded her presence." Saitou felt like bouncing on the balls of his feet like a giddy teenager as he anticipated the look on Tokio's face.

The maid bowed low and scampered off. He had to wait a few more minutes before the maid came back and he was allowed into the house. He was shown out to the garden where Tokio sat with her maid. A few other servants were scattered about doing a bad job of pretending to do garden work.

Tokio got up elegantly and greeted him.

"I am sorry that family was not here to give you a proper welcome." She bowed low. "I do hope that I may be of some small assistance."

He felt his hackles go up. He didn't know why, but his instincts were screaming that something was wrong. The servants, while doing a bad job caring for the plants, were hardly a threat. The maid that showed him in was already retreating to the kitchen building for tea. Tokio's maid, and it was Tokio's maid not Yaso's, still looked a little battered, but was hardly dangerous. He felt around with his senses, but no one was lurking around. So that left her, Tokio.

She looked fine, dressed in a silk with a gaily printed obi circling her waist. He couldn't spot any more bruises. As he bowed back, he noted that she kept her eyes down, but that was hardly notable. Her voice… it hadn't been till she spoke that he'd felt…something.

"Serizawa has had some troubling news." He watched as she folded her hands waiting for him to continue. Was that a tremor? Was she shaking? "The Ishinshishi have learned that the Shinsengumi are marrying and they have been showing far too much interest in who our brides maybe."

She glanced up to him looking slightly startled. _Odd. She usually doesn't give so much away, not without prodding._

"To prevent this, Serizawa has chosen to move our marriage date to tomorrow." He expected to get another glance at that, but she seemed frozen. "You will need to come with me. Have your maids pack your things and bring them to headquarters."

She nodded, almost as if she was only partially aware of what he'd said.

"Yaso. Do you understand?" Saitou frowned. His instincts were screaming at him that something was off, Tokio seemed to be suddenly timid, this time he was sure that this time it was not an act, and he suddenly wanted to be out of this house. He wanted both of them out of this house. "We are leaving now."

"I need to…" She started, almost dazedly.

He caught her hand and pulled. The servants who had only butchered a couple of plants in their zeal to do gardening startled making alarmed sounds. The young maid returning with the tea jittered to a halt. Tokio's maid gasped.

"Now." He pulled her through the door and down the hall. "I am not waiting for you to end up on an Ishinshishi blade."

"But… I should…" She gave a feeble pull at her hand, her voice was catching in fear, and he wasn't sure that he was the cause of it.

"Now."

**Tokio**

Saitou's room was nice enough. It was comfortable, warm, dry, and smelled pleasantly of wood smoke and food from the kitchen below. The floors, walls, screens, and furniture were all clean and well kept. A small chest stood in one corner with a rolled up futon next to it. Nearby a small stand for holding Saitou's swords stood empty. A window was open looking out over a small courtyard. Comfortable cushions were spread on the floor, and Saitou had had a servant bring up a tray of food for her. It was a nice pleasant place, and she fervently wished she was not there.

_They know… He knows… It's only a ruse. He'll come back in here and take me down to that courtyard and… _

She looked at the bowl of noodles floating around in a small decorative bowl. _How nice. My last meal is soba. How… ironic._

She turned away from it and looked out at the courtyard. A few men were out there talking in the shade of a tree. They were relaxed, making casual gestures and smiling as they talked. One tipped his head back against the tree in a lazy stretch. Either the Shinsengumi were much more hardened than she cared to think, or not everyone knew of the upcoming execution.

The screen slipped open and Saitou walked in. He noticed the untouched food. "You should eat. With all the preparations, you might not get breakfast tomorrow."

Toki froze then glanced back over her shoulder as he went over to pick up the futon. "Are the others here yet?"

"Hmm?" He paused on his way out the door, the futon in his arms. "No. I have patrol early, so I came to get you sooner than the rest."

"Oh." She looked back out the window. "Thank you for telling me."

She heard the door slid shut again. One of the men walked back inside with a laugh as his friends made some kind of joke. The rest settled themselves more comfortably and continued their conversation.

When the door opened again, a servant came in toting a new futon and bedding. He bowed nervously to her and set the rolled mattress on the ground. He rustled around a few minutes then the screen slid shut.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Saitou's voice made her jump.

He was sitting quietly on a cushion, his amber eyes watching her. She was uneasily aware of his sword laying at his side. So many of her communications had hinted, and even more than hinted, that Saitou often was the one to carry out any executions the Shinsengumi ordered. Thanks to her uncle, it was now very likely she would die on that sword. She had the insane urge to tell him to go out and clean it, that she didn't want her blood mixed with that of some low life traitor, but then again, what was she?

Her actions, taken in the light of her uncle's, could only be interpreted as traitorous. She wasn't going to fool herself. The second that Saitou appeared at the door, she knew her game was over. There was little chance that he wouldn't be able to find out about her duplicity and less chance that he'd listen to her half desperate, half foolish plans. Truthfully, he'd have to be an idiot not to know most of it already. And no one had ever accused Saitou Hajime of being an idiot.

She came and sat politely down in front of him. "What would you like me to tell you about?"

His eyes narrowed a little then he shrugged. "You're maid came with your things."

He set a stack of letters down in front of her. Her letters. The ones that her informants had written her. _Oh, why didn't I burn them…_

**Saitou**

His darling ran a spy ring. It was a relatively harmless spy ring that mainly had to do with men her uncle was likely to marry her to, and female gossip. He doubted that the Shinsengumi were in even the slightest danger from her learning that Okita had a fondness for marinated squid, or that he wasn't a pleasant drunk. The only really interesting thing in it was the letters of advice that her people had written her about how to seduce him, one of which was in written in eerily familiar handwriting. He'd have to send his dear sister a letter thanking her for the pleasant evening he'd had watching Tokio put her advice to use.

Honestly, he was flattered that Tokio went to the trouble. He was also proud of her. His little, brilliant, crafty, beautiful bride could disguise herself, seduce him with only some half witted advice, and run a spy ring in her spare time. He could only blissfully imagine what she would be like with a bit of experience and tutoring. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

"I'm sure you want to tell me about these, Yaso." He made sure to stress the name, letting her know he knew of her little game.

She didn't touch the letters. "I …ahhh…"

She looked pale, very pale. Her hands were folded in her lap, but he was sure if she reached out to touch the letters, she'd be shaking.

"Yes, Yaso?" He had to suppress the grin that wanted to creep out over his face.

He was even more proud of her when she took a deep breath and faced him. "You can stop that."

"Stop what?" He could feel his lips wanting to twitch.

"You know I'm not Yaso, so stop pretending." She looked him straight in the eye.

He managed to shade the delighted grin into a smirk._ Nice to finally meet you, Tokio._

"You've been a busy girl, Tokio." He delighted in stressing her name and watching her eyes flare slightly. _That's my girl. Get angry. I like it more than you being afraid of me._

"I had my reasons." She tipped her delicate little chin up.

"Tell me."

She looked away.

"Tokio." He stressed her name, adding a few shades of menace to his tone. "Tell me."

She jerked around to face him, a trace of fear slipping into her eyes. She looked back down at the letters for a second then sighed. The fear was gone when she looked back up at him.

"Uncle wanted me to marry." She looked away. "I didn't particularly like the thought."

"And?" He wanted to hear this. She owed him. For all the nightmares she inspired of eating horrible food, bedding a fat fool of a wife, and spending his life dreading what bit of idiocy she'd do next, she owed him.

"And I wanted to get rid of you."

"You didn't want to get rid of me last night." He smirked more when she blushed.

"I changed my mind."

_I changed my mind? Weeks of horror and…I changed my mind? She twists me around her cunning little fingers and has me panting after her like a teenager seeing his first naked woman and … Oh, you are going to pay for that Tokio._ "What if I've changed my mind?" He tossed the comment out wondering what her reaction would be. "You're hardly the wife I was expecting."

She looked back at him calmly. "That's fine. I've changed my mind again."

_WHAT! _He fumed silently, berating himself for once again underestimating her. Or maybe he was overestimating himself. He had done a very good job last night with the poet on the mountain gambit.

"I think I'd rather marry Okita." She calmly reached out and picked up her letters, sorting through them. She picked out a couple and set the others aside. She referred to the letters for a second then offered them to him. "He seems to be a nice man, with a good family, and has no attraction to growing rice on mountains. He's even very good looking, which is always a plus."

Saitou wanted to start snarling then go off and rip Okita's very good looking face off with his teeth. "Okita…"

"Yes, and we seem to share a few common interests too." When he didn't take the letters, she put them down with the others. "We both like theater, we both have a fondness for the same foods, and we both like children. Many successful happy marriages have been founded on much less."

She seemed happy with her decision. He wondered if he should drag her out to a handy temple and get the whole thing officiated that evening, or better, forget the temple and do it the old fashion way. He was sure Serizawa would understand. He covertly eyed the futon as she smoothed the letters down.

"I suppose I should tell Serizawa." She looked toward the door. "I hope he understands. It was just a girl's foolishness." She looked back at him with a decisive little nod. "No harm done."

**Tokio**

He didn't have the letter. She'd put it in her sleeve when he'd knocked at the door. He didn't know, which gave her more time to put distance between her and her now too dangerous fiancée. She took deep calming breaths and parried each verbal assault. Her little game might still come in handy. If she could buy time, if she could just delay, she could find an escape.

He didn't look happy. She really doubted that any man would, but by treating this as nothing more than a childish whim, she might still dodge the sword stroke. If the worse came about and she couldn't flee, she could marry Okita and when her uncle's actions came to light, she could tearfully claim innocence. If she devoted herself to her husband, if she became the staunchest of Shinsengumi supporters, she might then have a chance.

He destroyed it all with one sentence.

"Why bother when you're marrying me tomorrow." He said it calmly, as if it was little more than a minor detail in his schedule.

Her mind scrambled around for a second, as she smiled sadly. "I could hardly imagine marrying a woman who does such things," She waved her hand at the letters, "could really appeal to you."

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter." He leaned forward. "And besides, who's going to believe you, Yaso?"

She looked down and realized his hand now covered the letters.

"By the time Serizawa figures it out, you and that twisted mind of yours will be mine." He picked them up. "Your maid delivered your things and I've sent her away till tomorrow evening." He picked up his sword and stood. "We'll, of course, be married tomorrow afternoon." He grinned as he stepped towards the door. "Now, behave, Yaso." He hung his sword back at his side with a soft caress. "I'd hate for you to come to any harm because of any foolishness."

Toki sat still as the door slid shut behind him.

He knew. Maybe not everything, but enough.

He had the letters back in his hands. With them, he could go to Serizawa and she'd be taken out to the courtyard and never leave it.

There was no way to get out. The second she fled, he'd be after her with his sharp wolf's nose.

Her uncle was sure to find out, and when he did…

She was going to die.

She only wished she could be braver.

Maybe then Saitou would survive.

* * *

Please Review!

Research Notes:

Weddings- The old fashion wedding Saitou was contemplating was a simple matter of sleeping with a woman for a set number of nights in a row (I believe three but I can't find the reference in _Tale of Genji_ to completely verify this.) The women would become a "visiting" wife and it was considered a valid marriage. The traditional Shinto wedding that they are planning involves a simple ceremony of the couple drinking three sips of sake out of three red cups in the presence of a priest outside a temple. In one book (_Daughter of the Samurai_) the presence of the priest and the temple seem optional.

Tokio looking down- Women usually would not meet a man's eyes. It was considered to be too bold, which was to be avoided in all well bred women.

Ink and brush- It was traditional to use a brush to write with and would still be common for decades to come to write letters with a brush. I have given Tokio and her uncle both a pen and a brush since I feel it keeping with his character to have a pen.

Saitou the executioner for the Shinsengumi- The original Saitou Hajime may or may not have carried out this function. His family declares that he did not. However, Kenshin believes that Saitou did this, so I am giving Tokio the same information and staying in RK cannon.

Putting the letter in her sleeve- The sleeves of a kimono are often used much the same way as pockets, so Tokio would have tucked a letter in her sleeve the same way we'd shove a letter into a pocket.


	9. A Meeting of the Paths

AN: This was really a hard chapter for me to write. I needed to get a lot of research done, plus I had to carefully figure out who knew what, when ,and how, so that the plot wouldn't suddenly fall to pieces around your ears as you shriek "No way! He didn't know that!"

**Terms of Engagement**

**Chapter Nine: A Meeting of the Paths**

* * *

**Tokio**

The brides, dressed in their hastily scrambled together finery, stood in a little room that had, until yesterday, probably been a storeroom. They chattered nervously amongst themselves as they whispered either consolation or encouragement in the dingy room filled with the smell of old rice bales and recently disturbed dust.

Toki, decked out in her flowing white garb looked a bit more put together then most of the brides, thanks to the efforts of her loyal Meido, was probably in more dread of the ceremony than the others. They were getting married to men their families approved of to some extent. Uncle Choju had specifically broken her engagement to Saitou and engaged her to Okita. Which of course brought up the whole problem of Okita, who was really a nice man, but would probably be furious when he heard about her trickery, not to mention her marrying another man. However, those seemed like small problems when she took into account that she was marrying her own executioner. While she'd burned the letter that implicated her dearest uncle, Saitou would find out. Once he found out, she and Saitou's sword would probably become quite intimate with each other for a few life changing seconds, and she wasn't talking about the coy euphemisms that Midori and Sumire snickered about behind their fans. Even if she discounted that small, insignificant, hardly worth mentioning problem, she still had to worry about her uncle's plotting.

_Damn you grandfather. I don't care that I will burn in some hell for this, as long as you are there with me. How could you do something so, so… typically male._ She shook her head slightly, feeling her hat's ornaments sway with the movement. _Women equals stupid, therefore incapable of dealing with finances. As if Samurai's did any better…_ She could still see her father's face when confronted with something as small and insignificant as a tiny coin being held out to him.

A soft knock at the door summoned the first bride. All the women poised nervously as the miko poked her head in and whispered for Kiiroi to come and join Matsu in front of the temple for the ceremony. Blushing and clumsy in her uchikake that she'd borrowed from a neighbor, she followed the miko out into the much less musty hall. The others whispered encouragement as she stumbled her way to her new life. Quiet reigned a few moments as they contemplated her fate.

Toki looked around the room wondering if it was possible to run, but the lack of windows hampered her plan, and the certain knowledge that an amber eyed wolf in human form was probably gleefully waiting for her to try such a trick. She could imagine the fun he'd have tracking her down through Kyoto –she knew he'd make sure she'd run at least that far, just of the entertainment of it- and then he'd drag her back smirking and proud of himself.

Well, she certainly wasn't going to give him any encouragement. He was just going to have to behave through a very proper marriage ceremony, with a very proper bride, and try to be a very proper groom. She knew it would spoil the fun for him, but for now, the only way she could vent any of the frustration and fear she felt was through small petty jabs. And he was the target.

Another knock at the door summoned the next lucky bride. Sumire disappeared with a pleased smile and a small cloud of good wishes to wed her dear Kashi and spend the rest of her life dealing with his infatuation with Kabuki dancers. Midori wasn't looking nearly as pleased as she used to. Toki guessed that her Momiji had finally either slipped up or confessed that he had his own private harem, and more than a few of her sources had hinted that sweet Momiji was marrying for the sole purpose of having a son to placate his anxious father. Midori would be pregnant and shuffled away to spend her life with her new in-laws quickly, leaving Momiji to continue his swordsmanship with the women of Kyoto.

Another knock summoned the next happy bride, which was her. She delicately lifted her uchikake and carefully made her way out of the room. The miko was waiting to help her get to the ceremony without bolting for an exit or tripping over the hem of her gown and breaking her neck. After slogging through the halls with her increasingly heavy robes she finally came to the shrine's front were Saitou was waiting at the shrine steps dressed in black, with a scowl on his face. Toki wanted to grin at that expression, but kept her face properly composed.

_Spoiled your fun didn't I? Poor Saitou…or should I now practice calling you Hajime?_

A few pompous words, a few sips of sake and she and her new husband were off to offer their three sakaki twigs to the gods.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you." He snarled venomously as they set their twigs down in offering. "I've been listening to all those idiots prattle about…" He suddenly got very interested in his twig. "…and…" he gave her an accusing look.

"What did you want me to do?" Tokio kept her voice soft and placid, all traces of the gloating and smirking that were begging to be let out were suppressed. "If I must be married, I want it done right." She nodded to one of his sakaki twigs that was teetering on the edge of the alter "You might want to take care of that."

Saitou caught the twig and nudged it back into the growing pile.

_Poor, grumpy wolf._

"Your uncle seemed a bit uninterested in the whole ceremony." Saitou caught her hand and stomped moodily out of the shrine. "He didn't even bother attending."

"Well, about that…" She looked around to see if any other joyous couples were about. "Remember, I'm actually supposed to marry Okita. As far as he knows, I won't be getting married for months."

Saitou stopped. "Your family doesn't…"

"No. I told my father. He even sent his congratulations." She gave his hand a small tug. "I just never told him about uncle changing his mind."

"Is there anyone you know that you haven't tricked?" One put upon wolf muttered as he glanced around the temple grounds then headed over to where the other lucky bridegrooms stood with their new wives.

"Not that I know of…" Toki made sure her voice was light and carefree. She could practically hear Saitou…Hajime's teeth grind together.

**Saitou**

Things were not going well. Yes, the ceremony had been flawless. His bride was undoubtedly the most beautiful of the lot. The sake had even been good. The only problem was the morons he'd had to wait with. They had done nothing but talk about sex, women, women and sex, sex and women, wedding nights and sex, different ways to have sex, speculations about which brides would be the best sexual partners, who had already sampled their bride's skills, who had the most sexual prowess, and who was going to give up their mistresses, which had been few. Now that he had Tokio next to him, and they were married, all his mind could mumble about was sex. Drinking ceremonial sake reminded him of sex. Offering twigs…sex. Touching her hand…sex. He'd paused for a moment when he realized that her family hadn't really known about what was happening, but he shrugged it away since the problem could be solved by… sex.

Things were not going well at all. He glowered at his bride in her finery. _This is all your fault, you and that tea ceremony. I am never letting you serve me tea. EVER! _

He knew he was being childish, but the day was hot, the tailor had left something in one of the seams of his hakima that was poking him in the hip, he was irritated, he still had to stand and listen to the increasingly dim witted nattering of the others, and his bride was irritatingly serene and beautiful. It was just… unfair. He wanted to go back to his room, lay down, and enjoy teaching his new wife a few of those things she had been so interested in learning.

As they joined the group of newlyweds, the men all gave him a congratulatory smirk. He envisioned running them through with his sword, tossing Tokio over his shoulder, and running to the nearest inn. Tokio seemed to float gracefully over to the other newly made wives and all of them stood fanning themselves idly and tranquilly discussing clothing. The men watched them like starved dogs salivating at a meaty treat. Even Momiji, who Saitou had often privately considered "accidentally" gelding in a freak sword mishap to make Japan a better place, was twitching and panting.

"Hehe… She's an eager one. You should have seen her at the tea ceremony." Momiji snickered softly. "You won't believe what she suggested we do in the bushes."

"Sumire didn't even wait for the bushes." Kashi grinned back.

Saitou eyed Tokio and wondered if there were any bushes nearby. He looked around and only spotted a few ornamental shrubs that had been pruned too much to offer any form of cover. There was a promising rock though. He frowned at Tokio's back, plotting how to get her over to the rock before someone else caught sight of it and put it to use.

"How about you, captain?" Momiji sidled closer to him.

Saitou turned and eyed him, narrowing his eyes threateningly. "You're breathing near me. Stop it or I'll make you stop."

The other lucky bridegrooms and Momiji sidled away.

Saitou took a deep breath and tried to stop the images of long slender limbs, silky midnight hair, and devious smiles from stampeding across his mind and giving his already over active libido any form of encouragement. Not that Tokio herself was negligent in giving encouragement. The damn woman was making a small gesture, raising her arm and letting her robe fall down her arm slightly, letting him see the soft curve of her limb and worse, she had the audacity to actually have a tiny bead of perspiration on the back of her slender neck just below her hairline behind her ear which was nearly shouting for him to come over there and do something, anything about it.

Obviously, the woman was trouble. There was nothing to do with her except to take her back to his room and put an end to her hellish teasing. There were also a number of very nice inns that could quickly provide a comfortable room for a night or two nearby. If he remembered correctly, there was a particularly fine one just a short walk away. He considered how many more men were still waiting to be married, how much longer Serizawa would require him to stay, and how long it would take to get to the inn.

More lucky bridegrooms arrived and joined the others, adding their own comments to the unrivaled idiocy that was holding sway a few paces away from him. A few more lucky brides joined the other women causing Tokio to sway enticingly as she made room for the new arrivals.

"Hey," Okita bounded up grinning. "Just a few more and we'll head back to the inn for the wedding feast."

"Feast?" Saitou scowled, concentrating on glaring Okita to death. "What feast?"

**Tokio**

The wedding feast was lovely. She idly nibbled a small pink mochi pastry and smiled as a servant delicately placed a tray of shrimp in front of her. The other brides and grooms smiled lovingly at each other around her. The grooms fondly pointing out the tastiest treats for their brides as the brides sighed dreamily at their grooms, looking at them with unabashed adoration.

"Are you finished yet?" Saitou growled. "Eat faster."

Toki smiled gently back and continued to nibble lightly on her mochi. He'd been looking particularly feral since the wedding ceremony, and by the way he was twitching around, she didn't have to look at his lap to see that she had once again captured his attention. So, being the loving wife that she was, and figuring it was payback in advance for him lopping her head off with his sword when he found out about Uncle Choju, she ate slowly and made sure each and every movement she made was the epitome of delicate grace and flowing elegance.

Saitou was, she noticed, not appreciating her performance, or, more accurately, appreciating it too much. If he'd been feral at the temple, he was nearly rabid now. His golden eyes were a glowing molten color. He had either ignored his food totally, or gobbled it down without looking at it. Toki was pretty sure that Saitou hadn't actually meant to eat that little decorative flower that had been on the side of the sea bream, but he'd been too busy watching her drink tea to do more than snatch the closest nearly edible thing and chomp it down.

_Poor, frustrated wolf._

Toki admitted it was particularly fun since she knew how this all would end. If then ending didn't have another, far more permanent ending, looming after it, she'd have let her wolf drag her off to show her just what her body was now making all sorts of hints about wanting. All considered, she was feeling a bit cornered between Saitou, her own body, and the looming threat of…

_Oh no._

A few calls came from around her as Uncle Choju walked into the inn. Toki ducked behind her groom as if suddenly needing to fix the hem of her gown. Her sudden beheading as an entertainment on her own wedding day loomed.

"What?' Saitou wasn't believing her sudden need for neatness and looked at her suspiciously.

"Uncle is here." Tokio hissed at him.

"So?" He looked profoundly unimpressed by her very own near death experience that was now amiably talking to Kashi near the front entrance.

_The best way to make a man do what you want him to do, _one of her informants had once told her_, is to ask him to do what he already wants to do._ That of course was one of the problems with dealing with her husband. He was contrary, so for his own good, and of course hers, she gave him a disapproving look.

"I have to get up and greet him and I don't want to trip over my gown." She hissed again and fussed a second more. "I'll go explain. I'm sure he'll want to greet you." She looked up at him with a thoughtful frown then turned her attention back to arranging her gown. "Just be sure to wake me when he finally lets you go."

Saitou glanced over to where her uncle stood laughing at a joke Kashi had just told. "Lets me go…"

"And remember, if he challenges you to a drinking contest, he has a tendency to…well, vomit when drunk." She turned carefully as if preparing to stand. "I'd appreciate you not coming back tomorrow smelling like…"

"What do you mean tomorrow!" Saitou snarled pulling her back down.

She sighed a long suffering sigh. "He'll want to get to know you, and well…he does like to drink and seeing we are at a feast, I doubt he'll let you go before tomorrow morning at the earliest." She pulled herself free and made to stand again. "Wake me when you get back. I'm going to leave once I explain things to him."

"You are not leaving without me." Saitou growled pulling her back down again.

"I am certainly not going to sit and watch you two get drunk." She pursed her lips into a disapproving moue. "You, if I remember correctly from my letters, make a miserable drunk."

Saitou looked to where her uncle was now accepting a drink from Kashi. "Fine." He got up and yanked her behind a decorative screen. "Time to go anyway."

"Saitou, we can't just leave. My uncle…" She struggled a bit, protesting.

"I'll meet him tomorrow."

**Saitou **

They made it to a more private inn in only a few moments. He doubted that anyone except Okita had seen their sudden disappearance, and he'd only seen it because they'd run into him on the way out the back door. He knew the little minx he'd married was up to something, probably something to do with her uncle, but since he'd been looking for an excuse to leave, he'd let her get away with her little deception. He'd question her about it later. Later after he'd gotten over the aching need to run his hands down her skin and feel her quiver beneath him.

Saitou was relieved to see that the futon was already spread for the evening. The window of their second floor room was already tightly shuttered for the night. A candle with a paper flame protector sat on a small table by the bed near a delicate vase with an autumn chrysanthemum bobbing its heavy head lazily in it.

Tokio stepped in the room behind him, looked around a second then turned to him. "You can't avoid my uncle forever. You should have stayed and…"

He pulled the door shut behind her, "Later."

"But uncle…"

He didn't want to hear it. He'd been listening to a litany of reasons he had to go back and drink with her uncle since they'd left. He'd wade through the quagmire of his wife's mind later, now he wanted to explore something much simpler. He stepped farther into the room, listening as his wife continued to trail after him chattering about leaving.

"…so rude to leave like that."

He stopped near the futon and bent down, blowing out the candle. The dim light from the fading day glowed through the shutters casting the room into soft shades of grey.

"Saitou? Why did you…" She sounded nervous.

Saitou turned to her, his hands reaching for the obi that circled her waist. "Enough Tokio." He pulled her close to him, her hands coming up reflexively to rest against his chest. "Let me show you another game you can play."

She gasped as he pulled the obi loose. He pulled her even closer, nuzzling her ear as the cloth fell to the floor. "I'm sure you'll like it."

His hands slipped into her robes letting him feel warm silken skin. Her own hands were now spread against his chest and he could feel her breath, soft and excited against his neck. His name a whisper in his ear.

"Hajime…I…" Her fingers slipped in, the tips touching his skin.

Her legs shifted against his as he pulled her hips against his, her warmth rubbing against his need. Her fingers were now tugging shyly at his own robes, trying to loosen them. As he pulled her down to the futon, her robes fell open around her. It only took a moment for his clothes to fall away, leaving nothing hidden from her curious, hungry eyes.

"I know you'll twist me around your fingers with this, someday." He shuddered as her hands slid up his arms and traced along his shoulders.

His own hands were brushing under the weight of her breasts. "After all, you already have…"

**Kojiro Choju**

Okita made a fine companion while drinking. He was friendly, intelligent, and not above chattering about things. Things that he didn't even know he was chattering about.

Yaso, or rather his niece Tokio, was one of those things.

He'd seen her walking down the street to this inn, dressed in her wedding finery, and had been rather curious. Not curious enough to stop the two newlyweds, but curious enough to "accidentally" amble in and stay to toast the well being of the Shinsengumi's newly married couples.

The fascinating thing wasn't that he was upset about the marriage as his niece thought he'd be, considering that she'd bolted like a frightened dove the second she spotted him. No, it was that Okita didn't know his little bride had just married his best friend. Odd. Just as odd as the fact that Saitou Hajime had married a woman named Yaso, that was beyond even a small doubt his niece.

Had the little twit really been in love with Saitou the whole time?

He snorted into his cup. Okita or Saitou, either would do nicely. He'd preferred Okita, with his lung rot, but Saitou would do nicely. It didn't matter how skilled a swordsman Saitou was, a sniper bullet would kill him just as easily and far more quickly than waiting for nature to take its course with Okita. It would sadly be a more notable death, but with a war spilling through the streets of Kyoto, what was one more dead body, especially if the dead body was a Shinsengumi captain who was out on patrol in dangerous territory.

He laughed as Okita poured more sake into his cup and told a rather ribald joke.

No. Today was a fine, fine day. His sweet, idiot niece had done an excellent job promoting his plans. Now he just had to add a few minor touches, perhaps get a bit more information, and all would be well.

He toasted a blushing couple who bowed themselves out of the room to snickers and off colored jokes, and smiled. Yes, all was well. He could go home, find Tokio's maid…

_what was her name…_

_who cared… _

_just one more replaceable servant…_

It would even be fun. The kitchen maids were tiring with their weeping. The little mousy thing would wiggle and squeal pleasantly for him. By the end of the night, he'd have the information he needed and he'd be able to make the necessary arrangements. He'd get Tokio a new maid later, if she was still in need of one.

**Tokio**

_So, that's why he likes to kiss._

Toki stretched carefully, trying not to wake Saitou. Not that she was going to protest if he wanted to play again, but, honestly, she was a bit achy this morning. It was a pleasurable achy, but still she wouldn't mind not having to get up for a bit. She curled back against him, luxuriating in his warmth. The morning was a bit cold and her clothes were now scattered around where he'd tossed them the night before. She didn't feel like leaving a nice warm husband to shiver through the room naked getting dressed. She idly noticed that his clothes weren't all that far away, and his sword was laying next to the futon.

_Bastard._

She snuggled against him, feeling his hand slide down her waist and press against the small of her back. He made a soft sound in the back of his throat. Asleep, he was stunning. He wasn't the round cheeked, wide eyed beauty that Okita was, but without the sardonic expression he usually wore, his face curved into smooth high cheekbones, soft almost delicate lips, and beautifully arched brows. His body was slender, with layers of sleek muscle sliding gracefully under velvet skin that was marred in places by scars.

She touched a finger to one that slipped around the bottom of his ribs. It didn't take much knowledge to realize that it had been a serious wound, both deep and long. The clean edges and nearly elegant sweep up at the end under his ribs indicated a sword wound. She wondered where he'd gotten it.

"I thought you were tired." His hands slipped downward, caressing the curve of her buttocks. His eyes fluttered open. A lazy smile curved his lips.

She instantly felt a curl of excitement tangle under her ribs and start working its way down as his other hand slipped between them. "Hmmm."

"Hmmm." He rolled her under him, his head dipping, his lips brushing against her throat then trailing downward.

She got lost as her body arched up, pressing against his mouth, while her legs spread themselves for him. His fingers slid inward. She'd always loved his hands with their long slender fingers, now she nearly wanted to worship them as they explored her, teased her, causing her body to twitch and writhe as pleasure wound its way into her blood. She adored his hands.

"Ow!" At least until they did that.

He had the nerve to laugh. "Sore?"

The mood ruined, she shoved. "Get off."

He rolled away easily and still snickering to himself, got up, and started dressing. Tokio yanked the blankets back up around her and curled in the warm spot he'd left behind feeling abused. It was completely unfair that her tender pink parts now hurt while he was wandering around gloating about doing the hurting. She pulled the blankets over her head growling to herself about men and their unfair games.

He tugged the blanket down a bit to look at her. "Do you want breakfast?"

She glared at him.

"A trip to the bath?" He dumped her clothes on top of her.

She huffed at him and the evil grin he had plastered on his face, but got up. She didn't miss the fact that his eyes moved over her body possessively as she dressed. She turned her back and struggled into her clothing. Tying the obi back into its original knot was beyond her without Meido's help, but she managed to look mostly presentable. Not that anyone seeing her in her wedding clothes, with her hair spilling around her shoulders in a mess, and a self-satisfied wolf smirking at her would be in any doubt of what they'd been doing for the majority of last night.

She braided her hair, trying to smooth it as much as possible and ignored her delightful husband who was placidly pacing around the room like a famished wolf ready to tear into a deer. She stood, made a few last adjustments to her obi and robes, gracefully walked to the door, and walked down the stairs, leaving her husband to grumble after her.

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Author's Research Notes: 

Samurais and money- A samurai wouldn't handle any money. Even after the revolution, former samurais would have a servant handle all money, transactions, and financial matters. It was considered beneath them. That Uncle Choju handles money, not to mention a few other interesting habits, says something about his character. I am letting Saitou handle money for another reason altogether; he's probably too smart and to practical to let anyone have power over him or his affairs if he can help it.

Wedding Ceremony (and some nice pictures) can be found at www. japaneselifestyle. com. au/culture/Japanese undersconre wedding underscore ceremony.html. The white wedding kimono is called an uchikake. The white symbolizes death in many Asian cultures. The bride, dressed in her white uchikake symbolically dies to her family and is reborn (In Daughter of the Samaurai the book discusses that under the uchikake is a red kimono, red symbolizing birth and life.) to the new family. The uchikake is also very heavy and long, which makes walking in them difficult. Usually the bride would have an attendant to assist her in this task.

Mikos- These were attendants or shrine maidens. This (contrary to _Inuyasha_) wasn't always a great job to have since mikos were quite often prostitutes working for the temple. Wandering around the countryside declaring yourself a miko was pretty much like being a travelling … well, you get the idea… Makes you look at Kagome and her little dress a bit differently doesn't it? O.o

Necks- The sexiest part of the female anatomy to many Japanese men is the neck and specifically the back of the neck where the hair comes down in three triangles. If you look at a geisha from the back, they all emphasize this with makeup and lowering the collar their robes down to rest on or below their shoulder to elongate their neckline and give men a good view of their slender necks.

Kissing- Kissing was considered somewhat kinky. It was a sexual quirk and had the same connotations as we might consider S&M today, maybe a bit fun, but defiantly not something you want to do around the relatives.

Walking ahead of a husband- Tokio is misbehaving. A wife generally walks a few paces behind her husband. Considering the war going on, this was practical. The husband would be the first to meet any danger and take steps to protect his wife without her getting in the way of the combat. Honestly, this only makes minimal sense to me since people could come up from behind and snatch a wife away while the husband was busy being manly in the front.

* * *

Review Please! 


	10. Rain

AN: Yes, Saitou was a bit of a jerk, but he had his reasons… Also, if you haven't figured it out, Toki is Tokio's nickname. I thought it was obvious and I hate pointing out obvious things.

**Terms of Engagement**

**Chapter Ten: Rain**

* * *

**Saitou**

"Stay put." He gave his darling wife a small warning glower, which he already knew was doomed to failure, and slid the door to his personal quarters closed.

He turned and went down to Serizawa's office where the little lackey that had tracked him and Tokio down while they'd been coming back from the baths stood shifting nervously. Considering the afternoon plans that the little bootlicker had interrupted, his nervous shifting was an almost comically mild twitch. After the meeting, Saitou planned on making the kid's life nothing short of hellish. Dragging him off on patrol and running him at top speed around all of Kyoto sounded like a start, he could make the little puppy practice wrestling in the courtyard with Timo the ex-sumo that evening, then finish the day by making him clean every chamber pot in the officer's quarters. He smiled to the fool as he entered Serizawa's office.

Serizawa, as usual, was sitting in the middle of a disaster and agitatedly reading a document, sipping tea, and trying to eat breakfast. He didn't waste time with small talk, but just looked briefly up at Saitou and grunted, stuffing a small bean pastry into his mouth so he could scoop up a few map scrolls and held them out.

"Take 'em." Serizawa muttered, swallowing quickly and taking a sip of tea. "Okita's sick and you get his patrols today."

Saitou took the maps and sighed to himself. He should have known that he'd pay for having one night to himself. He looked at the maps and felt a headache start. Not only did he have Okita's brainless bunch to shepherd around Kyoto for an entire patrol, he'd have to do it through some of the worst slums in Kyoto. He could already imagine those dimwitted bumpkins ambling through that rat warren singing some idiotic ditty while one by one they got dragged into back alleys and stabbed for their shoes. He didn't let any of this show though. He saluted smartly and went out to gather the patrol before Serizawa found another way to make sure he and his wife didn't get another moment of private time.

Okita was in the common room talking to one of the Shinsengumi's top scouts when Saitou appeared. His friend looked more than sick. His cheeks were bright red, while the rest of his skin was ghost pale. The exhausted slump of his shoulders and his leaning heavily against the wall were not as worrying as his labored wheezing.

Saitou stalked over to him. "What are you doing?! Get back to bed."

Okita nodded, "J'st mom'nt. Got'a j'st 'range…"

"I'll arrange it." Saitou could practically hear the gurgle in Okita's lungs. "Go, before I drag you up there." He glanced at Okita's men then snarled. "Only you would catch a cold at a wedding feast."

His friend smiled gratefully, but shook his head his normally bright eyes half focused and glassy. "R'por's. I'shi'n."

"I'll do it. Go." He glared at the man who was giving the report, silently promising to kill him slowly if he didn't shut up.

Okita blinked, panting for a moment then nodded. "Than's."

"I'll tell you what you owe me for this later." Saitou grumbled carefully watching Okita stumble slowly up the stairs.

He turned back to the man. "Now, what were you saying?"

"We've spotted a group of Ishinshishi over by the banks of the Honzu. They seem to be scanning the trade boats coming down the river." The man reported promptly.

"How many?"

"We spotted five, but four left, leaving a spy to watch the river. We continued surveillance to see if they'd return, but when I left, only the one was there. He was keeping under cover along the bank."

Saitou looked over to where Okita's patrol stood laughing and telling jokes, then frowned. There was no chance, not even a slight one that he'd take that lot along, even on a relatively small matter. He considered a few moments, came up with a solution, and turned back to the waiting man.

"Continue surveillance. Report back to me this evening at dinner." Saitou dismissed the scout with a wave and got a salute back as the man returned to his duties.

As a loud shout of laughter came from Okita's group, he looked up the stairs towards where Tokio was. He'd rather hoped for a long, lazy day with her, watching how her eyes would glitter, her cheeks would flush, and her sweet mouth would purse into a tempting moue when she was angry. He'd been looking forward to it. He'd had every intention of taking advantage of it. He was sure that with only a little persuasion his docile, innocent wife would fly into a complete rage. He could only imagine how stunning she'd look then.

Now he was stuck with a double patrol, a worrisomely sick friend, and the Ishinshishi lurking in bushes watching tradesmen ship goods down the river.

**Tokio**

"Stay put" grumbling, Toki glared at the door after Saitou left.

Insufferable man. Insufferable, smirking, gloating wolf. She huffed lightly and looked around. A few of her things were now tucked next to Saitou's. Her clothes chest was sitting next to the wall by a dark wood chest of Saitou's. On one of his tables, her raku dish with a small arrangement of fall grasses sat swaying gracefully. Her writing desk was set in a corner by Saitou's sword rack.

Meido must have brought her things yesterday. She went over to her chest and pulled out clean clothes. The bath, annoyingly smug husband aside, had been delightful. Even though Saitou had been nearly obnoxiously pleased with himself, it had been kind of him. His game from last night, as enjoyable as it had been, had left her sore and the bath had soothed away most of the ache. She glanced back at the door, wondering when he'd return. Maybe they could play again when he did. But she doubted he'd be back anytime soon. As a captain of the Shinsengumi, Saitou had responsibilities and dallying with his wife was probably low on his list of things that needed to be done to ensure a safer Kyoto.

She yawned and went over to where a futon was rolled up against the wall. She could use a nap, and while she waited for Meido to come and deliver the rest of her things, she could spend the rest of the morning sleeping. She was actually a bit surprised that Meido hadn't already arrived. Usually the maid would be up before dawn, shaking out clothes, collecting flowers for arrangements, and organizing the chaos of daily life in a household of scared children and plotting mistresses.

She was just smoothing the futon when a knock interrupted her.

"Yes?" She got up and went over to the door, sliding it open to face a dour looking man with one of her servants from home lurking at his elbow.

"He says he's got a message for you." The man's voice was depressing as he nodded to the boy. "And he brought more of your things." He looked past her into the room. "I'll have someone bring them up." He made it sound like funeral arrangements.

As she nodded, the boy scampered to her side. "Thank you."

She slid the door closed as the man turned and plodded dismally away. "You have a message?"

The boy jerked nervously around, blinking at her and nodding. "Yes, Lady…uhm…" he looked around again then ducked his head nervously. "We… uhm… you see, your uncle, Lord Choju…"

_What has he done now?_ Toki braced herself.

The boy looked more frightened. "…have you seen Miss Meido? We… uhm…Lord Choju was asking about her last night and…"

Toki felt the world slam to a quick halt. _Meido…_

"…and we saw…" The boy looked down. "…we saw him and her and…" He glanced up at her hopelessly hopefull. "She's here, right? We haven't seen her, since he… and we thought we heard her, but…she's here."

She'd been so distracted -_damn Saitou and his idiot games_- that she'd forgotten the danger they were all in. She didn't have to be a genius to figure out what had happened. Uncle had seen her. She'd been so busy playing games with Saitou, so proud of her cleverness, so worried about what Saitou might do, that she'd lost sight of what her uncle would do. Uncle had seen her and had gone home and found the one person who could give him the information he'd want. Which meant he probably knew everything and Meido… Uncle had never been known for his gentle disposition with the servants and Meido would have resisted, which meant…

_Meido… oh, Meido, I'm so sorry…_

"No. I haven't seen Meido." She looked around the room, not trusting its privacy. Paper walls held few secrets. She needed to get out of here before more people paid for her mistakes, not to mention her own head being taken off. "She's probably at the market."

The boy looked doubtful, but she glared at him to keep silent.

"I have a few things of my own I need to get there for Saitou." She glanced around the room then turned away. "Let me write a note to my husband, and we can go together."

She went over to her writing desk. Saitou had, after poking his wolfy nose in it and discovering her letters, been nice enough to put it all back in order. She slipped a piece of paper out and found one of her uncle's hated western pens and a bottle of the stinky ink he treasured. She quickly wrote out a note, sealed it, and set it out on Saitou's chest then went over to the raku dish.

Uncle, in his last rampage never realized how close he'd come to destroying all her plans. She lifted the heavy weight that held the grasses in place and pulled the leaves out. She turned it over in her fingers and carefully pried the bottom off, revealing a small water tight compartment with carefully horded man'en oban, enough to get them safely to Hokkaido. She glanced at the letter, then to the boy and nodded.

"Let's go."

**Saitou**

He was proud of himself. He hadn't snapped and killed all of Okita's men. It had been a close call a few times, but he'd managed to restrain himself. When they'd dallied their dim witted selves through the slums, he'd been so busy discouraging would be thieves, that he hadn't had time to slaughter them himself. When they'd scattered like a bunch of birds through the market without even a tiny thought about staying in contact with each other, much less him, he'd been too busy chasing after them while searching of Ishishishi, by the time they'd made their way through hotels, gaming halls, and geisha houses he'd been numbed to their continuing stupidity and hadn't done much more than memorize faces for when he recovered to deal out a bit of retribution.

And for all that grief, all he had was a vague rumor that some of the lower caste Ishin were planning on killing someone, or maybe had already killed someone connected with the Shinsengumi. He planned, when he had his own men, to track that rumor down. It just wouldn't do to allow the Ishin to amble around killing people without a bit of protest. Maybe the batousai would show up…

He trudged wearily up the stairs to the common room, wondering if Tokio had eaten dinner yet. After a long, long day, he wanted to take a few moments to tease his wife and have a good meal before he went out on the next patrol. It only took a few seconds for his plan to die a painful death. Standing in the common room, waiting for him was the scout that had been keeping an eye on the Ishinshishi's spying.

The man didn't waste any words. "They're up to something. A group of them joined with the one they'd left behind this morning and brought ropes and what looks like hooks."

Saitou nodded. "How many?"

"Ten. Eleven if you count the one stationed to watch. Some were armed, most had armor."

His men were already in the common room. He motioned for them to come and headed back out into Kyoto. They fell in behind him as he trudged down the stairs after the scout. It was a nice change from the brainless prattling from the last patrol to hear the soft, professional murmurs as his men fell into place and readied themselves for the work ahead.

The air was cool with a cutting chill that signaled a rain storm looming overhead. Clouds, that had only been passing wisps in the morning had steadily been gathering, till now they brushed low over the city. Saitou never quite decided if he liked it to rain in Kyoto. It made clean up easier when the rain would wash the blood down into the sewers, but it also made footing trickier and harder pick out sounds that gave away enemy positions.

They slipped through Kyoto's streets passing people rushing quickly to their homes trying to outrun the storm. Shop keepers were closing up early shivering in the early evening air as they closed up their shops eyeing the sky suspiciously. Even the bars were tightly shuttered against the coming rain with only rough voices drifting out through shuttered windows into streets.

By the time they reached the banks of the Honzu Kyoto looked deserted of everyone save the drunks and the desperate. Fat, cold rain drops thudded into the dirt at their feet as they edged their way along the riverbanks to nearly the edge of town, where the scout led them through some low underbrush till they came to where two other men crouched in hiding. Everyone nodded a small greeting as they squatted down.

"They're over there." One of the men they'd met whispered pointing to where a small group of men could just vaguely be seen through the brush and small trees a few hundred yards downstream. "They seem to be waiting for something. They seem most interested in small boats."

Saitou nodded. "We'll find out what they're looking for after we deal with them." He motioned to his men to split up. "How many are there?"

"Right now, seven. Four just left. They looked like they were headed upstream. Two that remain look like trained swordsmen. I think three have firearms. The others look like kids hired for the evening," the man whispered.

Saitou nodded. His men had already separated into two units and were ready to move. He waved one unit out giving a signal for circling around. The other unit he motioned to come with him. With only seven men, two with swords and three with guns, he wasn't too worried. The guns might be a problem and unless the Ishin assigned one of their hitikori's to this project, he'd be able to deal with the swords.

As they approached, keeping low and under the cover of the underbrush, the enemy kept their attention on the river. A couple of small boats were making their way downstream. The enemy tensed, and nodded to each other, signaling towards one of the boats.

Saitou waved his men down to see what would happen. The boys scampered down to the river edge totting coils of rope and large four pronged hooks and then started wading into the river.

One of his men nodded and gestured towards the Ishen. Saitou nodded and signaled for a quick, quiet advance while the Ishin were distracted. They slipped forward like shadows, the rain covering the sound as they slid into place.

He could see them clearly now, five men sitting focused on the boat that was slowly making its way down the river, trying to get into town. Two had swords ready in their hands, waiting for a signal for an attack. One of the three men with guns was scanning the riverbank and whispering intently to the others, obviously the man in charge of the group. The two other gunmen shifted around nervously, but kept their eyes on the boat.

Saitou nodded and signaled toward the Ishin's leader, marking him as the main target. His men shifted slightly and got ready. He listened carefully trying to locate the other half of his patrol, but could only feel a small hint of their ki in the forest. He frowned and signaled for a small wait.

He eyed the Ishin again. He could, with surprise, make do with the men he had with him, but… He frowned towards where the rest of his men were. It would be safer to wait. He looked back to where the two boys were now swimming into the river current dragging the ropes and hooks with them. With the Ishin distracted, he could hit them quick and take out the three gunners, leaving the two swordsmen to fall to his men's blades. He'd deal with his other men later. He signaled the plan to his men and received a quick nod and a couple of grins in return.

The attack was quick, the leader falling first and one of the gunmen a moment behind him. The third gunman had a surprise as he slipped back and drew a kodachi and proceeded to use it on the men around him. The two swordsmen were also a nasty surprise as they quickly drew and defended themselves with far more skill than Saitou expected.

It still wasn't a problem. Saitou felt more than adequate to deal with them, but it was an annoyance. With the rain making the riverbank slippery, and half of his men wandering around lost in the forest, he really wasn't in the mood for one more annoyance. He dodged as one of the swordsmen swung, then had to dodge again as one of his men skidded by him as the kodachi wielding man pressed his attack. The swordsman struck again, forcing him to take a step back to avoid the thrust. He slipped into gatotsu stance, but was forced to dodge as the other swordsman forced another of his men to slip and sprawl against his legs, making him take a couple of uncoordinated steps back to regain his footing.

_Damn. We're more of a danger to ourselves in this rain_. Saitou parried an attack and shifted position to avoid the kodachi wielder and his men as they trampled around. _Where the hell are those men!_

He found himself at the edge of the fight with his opponent smirking at him. Considering the spectacular demonstration of falling into each other that his men were providing, he didn't blame him for the smirk. If he was the man, he'd have been laughing his ass off. As it was, once he finished this fight, he was going to be chewing asses off and there would be little laughing done. Maybe a few pained moans, but no laughing.

He slipped back into gatotsu and grinned back at the man. The man grinned back and fell into a defensive stance, readying himself. His men had finally finished the kodachi wielder and were surrounding the other swordsman. This fight was finished; it was all over but the clean up. Saitou drew his arm back, focusing on his target.

Then he was on the ground. He didn't know how he got there. It was like time had stopped and reset, only a couple of seconds in the future. He could feel the muddy sand against his cheek, the slow seep of water into his clothes, even the rain falling on his hair, but oddly most of his body was numb. It took him a moment to realize his eyes were closed. When he opened them, he saw his hand resting a couple of inches in front of his face. He tried to raise his head, to see what had happened, but his body refused the request. His hand didn't even twitch.

"Captain!" A voice yelled in his ear.

Odd, he hadn't noticed that everything had gotten silent. What had happened to the fight? Where were his men? His opponent?

"Captain!" Someone was pulling at him, forcing him to turn over. "Fuck. He's been hit."

"Shooters! Get under cover!" someone yelled.

There was more yelling and he was being dragged. He caught a blurry glimpse of his own feet trailing limply in the wet sand. Odd, he couldn't feel them…

He was dropped behind some bushes with his men hovering over him.

"Did you spot…"

"Probably downstream…bridge or a…"

"…serious?"

"…chest…doc…"

Odd their voices were fading.

"he's not…make it…"

Then they were gone.

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**Please Review!**

**Author's Research Notes **

Bath Houses- These are fun. If any of you ever go to the Orient, go to a bath house. Yes, you have to be all naked like in a large room with other people, but they're all naked too and the same sex, so it's all good. I used to love going in the winter. I'd take my little wash pail, shampoo, and soap and head off to the hot baths for a couple hours of warmth, comfort, and pure luxury. It was wonderful. I actually treated myself to going to a hot bath in Ichon for my birthday one year. Ichon's bath is huge (the size of a large college gymnasium) with four or five different kinds of baths inside and three outside, including a hot mineral spring. It was the best birthday I've ever had. Just remember, if you go, take a shower first! You wouldn't want to wallow around in other people's dirt, so don't make them wallow around in yours. Read all about them here. http://www. japanesebathhouse. com/history. Html.

Sanitation- Yep, I researched it. They had chamber pots. What they did with the…stuff… is rather interesting. To know more, I'll leave it to you to discover. I did however trip over a book for this and other things that might be interesting to know. It's called _Everyday Things in Premodern Japan: The Hidden Legacy of Material Culture_ and was written by Susan B. Hanley. Here's a link: http//www. h-net. org/reviews/showrev. cgi? path22077869667600.

Man'en oban (a type of Japanese coin)- I looked up the best coins for Tokio to squirrel away to help finance her trip through Japan. The man'en oban was light weight, thin, and had a high value. http://www. imes. boj.or .jp/cm/englishhtmls/history. htm

Sharpshooters/ snipers- were actually quite popular in the English Military. It's actually fun to read this part as they contradict themselves a bit. They say that sniping wasn't used until the war in India, but there was a famous sniper from circa 1700. You figure it out. The rifle that the sharpshooter uses is a Whitworth .45 Percussion Barreled Rife. It was used primarily as a marksman's rifle for competition shooting, but was occasionally used by army sharpshooters. It could have easily found its way to Japan. There is an excellent picture of it on http://www. rememuseum. org. uk/arms/early/armplebr. Htm. I also researched for range and accuracy. I found a predecessor of this gun was able to accurately target and kill at 800 yards ( a mile is 1,760 yards, so the range is a bit less then ½ mile). While I'm not a gun enthusiast, I thought that was quite impressive for that time and more than enough to get out of Saitou's sensory range, especially if he's distracted with other opponents that are in close range. If you think, most gun users, even those with rifles, in RK are close range giving our bishies the ability to see and sense the opponent and to react. I put the sharpshooter at long range so there wouldn't be a sensory give away, and gave Saitou a nice, loud, multi-opponent, disaster fight to keep him and his senses busy. I just noticed I did overkill on this piece of research. You probably don't even care about the gun or where I put the sniper… (sobs)


	11. Falling Off Bridges

**Terms of Engagement**

**Chapter 11: Falling off Bridges**

* * *

**Okita**

Okita was sitting on his futon listening to himself breathe. It was…interesting… He'd really never paid much attention to breathing before. Sure, he'd noticed when his breath would come in short, excited pants when fighting, or the long, deep, relaxing breaths when first waking in the morning, but he'd never really stopped and paid attention to the rush of air down his throat, the way his lungs would fill, or the soft, almost relived way his lungs would deflate as he exhaled. Only now, when his lungs strained and bled, did he pay attention.

It didn't help that everything around him was quiet. He could distantly hear the murmur of voices from down in the common room, but up here in the living quarters, all was silent. Even Saitou's wife, Yaso, had disappeared to go shopping. He'd rather hoped to get to know her better. Anyone who could shake Saitou out of his ever annoying self control had to be interesting.

He grinned to himself remembering the look on Saitou's face during the wedding ceremony then laughed as he remembered Saitou's face after the tea ceremony in the park. His friend had been…distracted? No, that wasn't quite right. His normally stoic, give-nothing-away friend had been well and truly… He grinned wider. Flustered. That was the word for Saitou, flustered. At the wedding ceremony his level of flusteredness had increased to the point that he'd looked like a wolf who had just had just learned that the deer had banded together and were plotting against him.

His only regret had been that Saitou had managed to escape the wedding feast. Watching Saitou twitch and eat flowers had been one of the most entertaining things he'd seen in years. It had been made even more entertaining when he'd realized that Yaso had been enjoying the show too and had every intention of sitting placidly watching Saitou froth at the mouth for the full duration of the feast. It also made him think that the gods had a sense of humor, and thank them for only pairing him with a… plump…not intellectually inclined…uhhh…

_Oh, just admit it. _A voice that sounded suspiciously like Saitou grumbled in his head. _Tokio's a fat, ugly idiot._

_Well, yes. But at least she isn't Yaso._ He could only imagine the horror of having those serenely devious eyes slide his way. It would be too much like being married to Saitou. _Now, that's a horrid thought._ Saitou may be his best friend, but the friendship worked best because they could escape each other when they started fraying each other's nerves. Forced to live together and they'd be at each other with swords within a week.

Okita lay back, grinning at the ceiling. He wondered when Yaso would be back. He was feeling better, so maybe they could have dinner together while she waited for Saitou to return from patrol. He nodded to himself, took a few deep breaths to test to see if he would give himself away, then got up.

He quickly straightened his clothing then went down to the common room. A few men from his unit were sitting quietly eating when he arrived. They waved happily to him, but returned to their meals. He smothered a smile. They looked exhausted. Saitou must have run them through their patrol at top speed. He would never admit it to Saitou, but he was a bit envious of the other's unit. His own desperately needed discipline, but he just didn't have the energy to patrol and yell at the same time. Often, it was all he could do to not lean against a building and wheeze for breath.

He stepped into the kitchen and waved down a cook.

"I'd like some tea for…" He quickly calculated when Saitou might get back and how long Yaso would probably be out shopping. It was nearly dark, so no matter how dedicated a shopper Yaso was, she'd probably be back soon. Saitou would probably be out till past midnight. "Two."

The cook bowed and went to prepare the tea. Okita went back into the common room and found a table away from the others, but close enough to the stairs up to be able to ambush his guests into joining him. The tea was placed in front of him quickly, and he took a sip, sighing a relieved sigh. His throat had been feeling raw from coughing and the warm liquid soothed it and took the bitter, lingering tang of blood out of his mouth.

He was just starting to drowse at the table when thumps and yells got his attention. He blinked himself back into the present and got up. Saitou's unit was scrambling into the common room with various expressions of anger, shock, and, in some of the younger ones, fear.

His men from across the room rushed over to him, and, seeing two of Saitou's men carrying a limp figure, he waved them away. "Get Serizawa. Now."

They scampered off as he grabbed one of Saitou's men. "What happened?"

"Sharpshooter." The man snarled. "We were down at the river and some ass hit the captain."

Okita nodded, "Report everything to Serizawa." He didn't wait for the man's answer as he rushed to Saitou.

He felt his stomach clench when he looked at his friend. Saitou was pale, with a terrifying blue tint to his lips. He hung limp and unconscious in his men's arms as they maneuvered carefully through the common room. A crude bandage made from Saitou's torn haori was wrapped around his chest and soaked through with blood. Blood, sand, and water dripped in a trail after them as they finally made the stairs.

"What is going…"Serizawa tumbled down the stairs and stopped at the small troop of men carrying Saitou.

He quickly took in the wide shocked stares of the men around him and the bedraggled, limp body of one of his captains. He turned and grabbed the man standing next to him. "You, get the doctor."

The man raced away as Serizawa waved the men forward. "Take him to his quarters." He looked around and spotted Saitou's unit milling around in a concerned mass at the foot of the stairs. "I want a report." He stomped down the stairs towards the men. "You lot sit down and start talking."

Okita nudged the men carrying Saitou to go faster. "Hurry."

One of Saitou's men had had enough sense to rush ahead light a small lantern and unroll Saitou's futon. They carefully laid their limp captain down on it and stepped back as the doctor rushed in. Okita watched worriedly as the man quickly cut away the haori and clothes. As the wound was revealed, Okita winced. The wound was serious, striking through Saitou's chest above and to the right of his heart. He looked away as the doctor continued looking at Saitou's injury. A wilted arrangement of autumn grass lay on a low table to the side. Yaso had probably been working at an arrangement when she'd been interrupted by her servant.

"It went through." The doctor murmured. "An entrance to the back and an exit."

Okita nodded, glancing back to his friend's still form then back to looking around the room. The two men that had carried Saitou in stood near him watching the doctor carefully.

"Tell me. How did this happen." He frowned at them as they shuffled uneasily.

"There were some Ishin down at the river. We went down to investigate." One man nodded to Saitou. "He split the unit up to take the Ishin out and…"

The other shook his head angrily. "They set us up. There were traps in the woods. When we went through, half the men got taken out by booby-traps. By the time we got to the main engagement, everything was over."

His companion snorted. "Four men, two boys. We got the men easy enough. Messy, but easy. We never even heard the shot. Just one minute the captain was about to take out this swordsman and the next he was down. We got him and got out of there."

Okita nodded. He'd have to go down to the river and investigate in the morning. "Any ideas where the shot came from?"

"Downstream. With the captain so bad, we didn't stay and investigate." The man shook his head. "We did round up the boys, but they don't seem to know much. Just that they were hired to go out and hook a boat."

A soft rush of feet and raised voices came from down bellow. Okita looked at Saitou one last time and turned toward the door. "Tell me if anything, and I mean anything, happens."

He made his way back downstairs to the commotion. Kojiro Choju was standing in the common room looking anxiously around. When the man spotted him, he rushed over.

"I saw…is Saitou…I… Tokio…" The man wrung his hands worriedly. "I'm so sorry. I'm not making much sense am I?" He took a deep breath. "I saw men carrying Saitou and I was worried. Was Tokio hurt?"

Okita frowned, puzzled. "Why would Tokio be harmed?"

"With them marrying yesterday…" Choju looked worriedly around. "I thought they might have been together and if Saitou…"

"Oh, no. Saitou married a lady named Yaso, Yaso Shinoda, not Tokio." Okita gave the man a small comforting smile.

Choju blinked then shook his head. "No. That was Tokio. I recognized her when I came in the inn yesterday." He sighed. "So headstrong. I told her to marry you, but there she was marrying Saitou and what could I really do?"

Okita stopped and looked at the man. Tokio…Yaso…Saitou… Tokio was Yaso? Saitou married Tokio? _Sweet gods, I almost married…_ He mentally cataloged her actions. _She disguised herself as someone else, created a false identity, terrorized Saitou, terrorized me, fooled everyone, and yanked Saitou around like a dog on a leash, all the while smiling like a Buddha. _He felt a cold shiver go down his back at his near escape. _And just how much does Saitou know?_ He considered his friend for a moment then sighed. _Probably everything._

He turned back to Choju…Saitou's uncle. "Saitou was on patrol. As far as I know, your niece was out shopping this afternoon." He looked around the common room. It was already dark out. She should have returned by now.

Choju just nodded. "And Saitou? Will he be alright? Tokio will be very worried."

"We don't know yet. The doctor is with him now." Okita waved towards one of the tables. "Why don't you have some tea. I'm sure when Tokio returns she'll need you to comfort her."

The man nodded and casting a few worried looks up the stairs settled at a table. Okita looked around frowning. Yaso…Tokio should have returned by time, but with Saitou down he couldn't send anyone out to search for her. Serizawa would require everyone to hunt down the shooter and the Ishin that set this trap up.

**Tokio**

She'd gathered the remaining servants and was, to all outward appearances, calmly leaving Kyoto; just one more group of people fleeing the fighting. She looked sadly at her small entourage. _Oh, Meido…_ Her dearest and most trusted friend was missing. After talking to the others, she didn't need to search to know that Meido was now laying nameless in some dirty alley, one more corpse in a city of the dead.

_If only I hadn't been so sure of myself, so pleased, so distracted. _She hung her head, forcing herself not to look back over her shoulder to where Shinsengumi headquarters lay nearly on the other side of Kyoto. _Saitou…_

All day long, as she'd gathered her servants and arranged for them to leave Kyoto, she'd been plagued by thoughts of her wolfish darling. Impossible thoughts. Silly thoughts. Tempting thoughts. Naive thoughts of going to him and telling him everything. Girlish thoughts of Saitou declaring that none of her uncle's traitorous behavior mattered because he loved her. Desperate, lonely thoughts of what her life would now be like.

She wasn't foolish enough to miss the simple fact that no one would be able to take his place. Where would she ever find a cunning, amber eyed wolf in human form again? Who would match Saitou's ability to simultaneously drive her mad with anger and tempt her to come closer? Who would want a wife like her? Too smart, too stubborn, too independent.

Nowhere. No one. She was walking away from the only person who would ever know her and still accept her. And she was doing it deliberately, of her own free will.

_Damn you, Uncle._

If she turned around, her uncle's plot would continue forward. Saitou and all her servants would be the ones to pay for her failure. All she could hope for now was to escape and hide long enough for her uncle's creditors to take him apart. Without her, his money supply would dwindle away. Without her, her uncle had no reason to continue with his plans. Her grandfather's will was clear. If she married her husband would inherit her estate. If Saitou died, the estate would revert to her cutting her uncle out completely. Only by killing both, Saitou and her, in that order, would Choju finally get his hands on the money he so desperately needed. With her disapearance, her uncle's hopes of inheriting would also be gone.

Maybe, if she was patient, maybe after Uncle Choju's creditors disposed of him, she could return to Saitou. But would he want her? A runaway bride who trampled over his pride? She sighed in defeat and crushed the fragile hope dead. No, once she left, she was never going to be able to come back.

So she trudged along the streets of Kyoto with her servants.

Maybe, she could send them ahead. She could send them to Aizu to be with her father and go back to Saitou. She'd confess everything, and if he wanted to kill her, so be it. But he'd listen first, and maybe he'd be able to deal with her uncle. She looked up, almost wildly then shook her head. Her uncle would still kill Saitou. Instead of solving her problems, marrying Saitou had only added one more problem, one more weakness that Uncle Choju would destroy her with. With her money backing him, he'd be able to dispose of her wolf. Funny how the only thing that money could reliably buy, even in the middle of a revolution, was misery.

"Lady."

She looked up, jerked out of her thoughts. "Yes?"

It was one of the kitchen maids, she frowned looking at the girl, struggling to remember her name.

_Wonderful. I'm destroying my entire life for someone whose name I can't remember._

"Lady, men are ahead." The girl pointed shakily to where the Shijo Ohashi Bridge arched over the churning river ahead.

"It's okay." She motioned for the others to gather closer. "We don't want to attract too much attention, so let's go over in two groups. If we get separated, we meet at the town gate."

"I'll go with you, Lady Tokio." Tanda, the groom stepped to her side.

Baidai, his elderly father nodded, "Good, good. I will take the first group. If they try anything, they will try it with us first."

He gathered half the servants to himself and trundled along. Tanda, the other half of the servants, and Tokio watched anxiously, but the men on the bridge stepped aside and called a good evening to the group.

When the first group had disappeared, Tanda motioned them forward. The men on the bridge smiled and called greetings as they approached. Tanda stepped by laughing and greeting them. A few maids tagged nervously at his heels then Tokio walked past.

"Ah, there you are." One of the men reached out and grabbed her. "We've been waiting."

She heard Tanda yell and the maids scream as she was swung, slamming her into the stone rail of the bridge. The man that held her sneered over his shoulder and she saw a glimpse of Tanda facing a man wielding a sword as maids ran cowering away. She kicked out desperately, causing the man to turn his attention back to her.

"Bye, sweetheart." He laughed and shoved her hard, causing her to topple over backwards into the water below.

The river was freezing and the current pulled her down quickly. She struggled back to the surface, struggling to get out of her robes that were dragging her down. She was pulled under again as her fingers scrambled at her obi tugging at the wet fabric desperately. She felt the cloth give and she wiggled out of it, surfacing again with a grateful gulp of air. She wasn't far from the bridge, the current had dragged her down, but not far away, so she swam to the nearest safety, the bridge's support.

From overhead she could hear the last of the fight and a moment after she latched herself to the pillar, Tanda was thrown over the side of the bridge and unresistingly pulled down by the current.

"Any sign of them." Someone overhead asked.

There was a pause. Then someone answered. "No. The river's fast tonight. They're probably half way out to sea by now."

"Ah, how tragic." One of the men overhead panted. "Too bad we couldn't tie them together."

Another laughed, "A shinju, how poetic. Maybe we could say he gutted himself after she jumped."

"Enough." A slightly deeper voice interrupted. "We've got to report back. Naga's probably killed the wolf, so they'll want to know his bitch is dead too."

Toki froze. _Wolf? Her wolf? Dead? No, her uncle couldn't have moved that fast…could he?_

One of the attackers snorted. "Hmph. No honor in guns."

"I didn't see you volunteering to kill any of Mibu's wolves." The deeper voice sneered.

_Saitou… Oh please, not you too…_

"Hey, I wasn't there when we were assigned."

"Shut up. We've got to report." The deep voice snarled.

Feet trampled across the bridge. Tokio clung to the pillar staring blankly at the spot Tanda's body had hit the water. She only hoped the maids had gotten away to meet with Baidai at the gate. She looked up towards were the men had walked off the bridge.

_Tanda. Meido. Saitou. I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me._

There was only one thing left to do. She swam carefully from pillar to pillar till she was on the bank of the river. She tiredly climbed up to the street level and turned her back on the city gates, and shivering, she made her way back to Shinsengumi headquarters.

_I don't care. I just don't care if they kill me. You aren't going to kill everything I love and get away with it. Do you hear me uncle? I'm not going to let you get away with it anymore._

**Okita**

The doctor came down the stairs looking serious as half the men in the room bolted to their feet and stared at him anxiously.

"I can't say." The doctor shook his head. "It's doubtful if he'll make it till morning."

The men shifted unhappily at that. Liked or not, Saitou had been respected, and as a captain, his loss to the Shinsengumi would be a blow.

"I'll come back in a few hours to check in on him." The doctor shuffled wearily to the exit. "Keep him warm and still."

Okita, sitting across from Choju, nodded dully. He'd always imagined that he'd be the first to die. He'd never imagined losing Saitou, at least not to something so…so impersonal as an assassin's bullet. When he thought of the future, he had always been sure that Saitou would survive the war. His friend had always been so vibrantly, stubbornly alive that he couldn't really make his mind accept that he'd just die, snuffed out like a candle flame. Oh, he'd occasionally worry about Saitou getting into a duel with a hitakori, like the batousai and dying a glorious death, but part of him firmly believed that Saitou would drag his wounded wolf hide back to headquarters and snarl for a week or so about red heads and getting even someday.

"Shouldn't someone stay with him?" Choju looked up the stairs with a concerned look on his face.

Okita nodded and stood up. "I'll stay with him."

"May I come too?" Choju stood too. "He is family."

Okita nodded and they both slowly climbed the stairs to Saitou's room. The lamp was still glowing softly next to Saitou's futon. The doctor had left it there and Okita carefully sat down next to it looking at his friend in its golden light.

Saitou looked better than he had when he'd first been brought in. The doctor had cleaned the mud away and discarded the wet bloody clothes. Now, Saitou lay quietly breathing soft shallow breaths. His skin, warm and free of dirt, was still pale, but lacked the frightening blue parlor from before.

"He looks well." Choju whispered then smiled softly. "He'll be fine."

Okita nodded. "He's strong. It will take more than one bullet to kill him."

He made himself sound confident, but inside he worried. Saitou was too motionless, too quiet. He'd traveled with him, and he knew that Saitou, even asleep was never this still. He looked to Choju. The man looked worried.

"He's nearly impossible to kill." He reached out and touched Saitou's shoulder. "He'll be back up and hunting the bastard that shot him down in a couple of weeks."

Choju nodded, still not looking relieved. "Tokio will be happy to know that."

Okita looked around the room, wondering where Tokio was. She hadn't come back yet, and he didn't care how much men joked about their wives' shopping, no woman would shop in Kyoto after sundown. He'd have to send someone out to find her. He stood, bowing lightly to Choju.

"Why don't we take turns watching him?" He walked to the door. "I'll go get some tea, and we can discuss how we can split up the shifts."

The man smiled slightly. "That sounds like a good plan."

Okita slipped the door shut and hurried down the stairs. He didn't want Choju to worry about his niece. The day was already bad, why make it worse? The men in the common room had disappeared, probably to their rooms. It was late and the patrols had gone out already and wouldn't be back till after sunrise. He stepped down the stairs to the front gate, looking for someone to send out looking for Tokio.

"Hsst. Okita." A voice whispered softly from the shadows.

Okita spun, his hand going to his katana. "Who…"

Tokio, a half naked, drenched Tokio, stepped out from the shadows trying to cover herself with her arms. "Okita… Something bad has happened."

He had a half dead wolf upstairs and a half naked woman downstairs and she was telling **him** something bad had happened. He fought down the urge to laugh. He had the feeling it would come out with a hysterical ring to it.

"Tell me about it." He meant to be sarcastic.

Tokio dropped her head tiredly and nodded. "I owe you that…"

**Choju**

The son of a bitch was supposed to be dead. He glared down at Saitou. He'd paid a small fortune for the best sharp shooter in Asia to kill the mangy cur and the incompetent had missed! Now he was stuck with a half dead in-law and hopefully by now, dead niece. He could probably fudge the time of his niece's death since finding her body was going to be nearly impossible, but Saitou…

He looked down at the unconscious man. He had to make sure the man didn't live till dawn. He looked around hurriedly. He could use the lantern, burn him to death and take out Shinsengumi headquarters as well. His Ishinshishi creditors might look favorably at that, maybe even forgive a few of his debts. Still, there was the possibility that the Shinsengumi would be rather upset about losing their base of operations. Not that they'd have it for long anyway. Not with the Ishin knowing where it was and already planning an assault. Still, burning Saitou to death would be too risky.

He eyed the bandages on Saitou's chest. He could reopen the wound, say that Saitou had been thrashing around and he'd just been trying to quiet him when the stitches came loose. He glanced at the door. Okita would be back soon with tea. He'd have to wait till he had more time to put that plan into action, but then the doctor would be coming back in a few hours. He shook his head discarding the plan as too risky. He needed Saitou dead fast.

Poison? Ah, that would be the best. He could slip some in Saitou's mouth and he'd be half way home before the man died. Of course the problem was that he didn't have any poison on him. He'd have to go get some. Not too troublesome. He had some at home. He'd been planning on slipping it into Tokio's tea one day, but with things rushing along the way they were, he'd had to hire men to take care of his niece. He could easily tell Okita he wanted to go home to check to see if Tokio was there and get the poison. He'd come back, tell Okita to get some rest and pour the poison into Saitou. When the man died, he'd be just as shocked and horrified as the others.

Poor Saitou. Poor Tokio.

The only problem with that was time. Once again he had that damn doctor coming in a few hours. It would take time to walk home and then walk back. The doctor could show up by then and he couldn't very well dismiss the doctor.

He looked around again and considered the cushions. Those might work. He could gently press a cushion down over Saitou's face, stop his breathing. Once the man was dead, he could run out and call for help saying that Saitou had stopped breathing and call the doctor. It would only take a few moments, and it would look perfectly natural. After all, the man had a serious chest wound.

Choju picked up a cushion and plumped it thoughtfully in his hands. Perfect.

**Okita**

Choju.

In a warped, terrible way, Tokio's story made perfect sense. He'd known something was off when he'd first investigated Choju for Saitou. The whole marry-my-niece-off scheme had just been too wrong. The man was slime, so why the sudden need to protect his darling niece? He snarled softly to himself.

Tokio was still standing in front of him with her head hanging low. He'd given her his haori- the thought of what Saitou would do to him if he ever heard of him having a conversation in a courtyard with his half naked wife had prompted him to hand it over quickly- but she still stood dripping forlornly, expecting the worst.

_Aku. Soku. Zan._

Kill evil instantly. But she wasn't the evil one. She was just one more victim. No the evil was…

_Oh, by the gods… upstairs with Saitou…_

He turned and ran. He heard Tokio's startled voice as he rushed through the common room drawing his sword. He slammed the screen open to find Choju bent over Saitou pressing a cushion down on his friend's face.

The man froze, looking back over his shoulder at him, a look of panic crossing his face.

"Uncle!" Tokio was at his shoulder.

The man jumped away. "I…I…I just thought he…"

"I told him uncle." Tokio wrapped in his haori stepped into the room, her voice tight with fury. "I told him everything."

"Told him what?" He made a small derisive snort and turned to Okita. "I don't know what nonsense my niece has been telling you." He nodded to Saitou. "I was just putting a cushion under his head. I thought it might help him breathe easier."

"About the Ishinshishi. About your gambling debts. About you killing the servants. About your plan to marry me off and kill my husband and me so you could inherit my money." Tokio snarled.

Okita stepped forward lifting his sword. "Get away from him, Choju."

Choju stumbled backwards. "Okita, really. I don't know where this girl…"

Okita shifted lower into battle stance. "Tokio, go. Get out of here. I can deal with him."

"Okita…" Choju sounded frantic. "I don't even have a weapon. I am hardly a threat." He looked around franticly. "Let's be reasonable…"

"Reasonable?! You were trying to kill Saitou! We saw you uncle." Tokio growled looking around for a weapon.

Choju shook his head then dove to the side. Okita shoved Tokio aside as Choju reached into his robes and pulled a gun. The man's eyes were wild with fear and hatred.

"It was supposed to be mine!" Choju yelled, aiming at his now sprawled niece. "I was first born. It should have been mine! Not yours!"

He pulled the trigger. But he forgot Okita. In a glitter of silver, Okita's blade batted the bullet aside. Choju's eyes widened momentarily as the next move Okita made buried the blade through his heart. The three stood frozen a moment, then Choju slumped down to the floor. Voices could be heard, yelling in alarm as footsteps raced through the halls.

"What the hell…" Serizawa raced in to find Okita wiping his blade with a look of disgust on his face, Choju dead at his feet, and Saitou's wife, dressed only in a Shinsengumi haori, kneeling at her husband's side gently stroking his face.

"Aku. Soku. Zan." Okita frowned down at the body.

**Saitou**

"No."

Saitou took a deep breath, hiding his wince, and prayed for one more minute of patience. "It's been three weeks."

His wife smiled sweetly and shook her head. "One more week won't kill you."

_Evil woman_. Saitou growled to himself and glared at the tray of food his beloved had set in front of him. He'd been trapped for three weeks, unable to even leave his futon for more than the minimal shuffle to use the chamberpot…for three whole weeks. Three weeks!

"I could get you some more ohaki? Would you like that?" Tokio was delicately arranging an elegant display of autumn chrysanthemums and red maple leaves. She wanted him to enjoy the fall, even if she could only bring it to him one piece at a time.

"I'm going to get slow and fat." He grumped at her. "I'll end up looking like a shop keeper."

She finished her arrangement and came to sit next to him. "You couldn't look like a shop keeper if you tried."

"I don't see why I can't just sit by the window." He hated that he'd been degraded into whining like a puppy for a treat.

"Would you like me to comb your hair?" She ignored him, which made the whining that much worse.

"You have an unhealthy obsession with my hair." He glowered then sighed when the glower was ignored too.

Tokio grinned at him. "It's been three weeks for me too." She bent forward and nipped his ear. "I have to fondle some part of you."

He was officially in hell.

Okita chose then to bounce into the room. "Hey. Look what I found on patrol."

He handed a bunch of dried grass to Tokio who smiled at him as if he'd handed her jewels and silk.

"Thank you, Okita. Would you like something to eat?" She stood up and walked over to her desk, putting the dried grass down carefully. "Saitou would love some company."

"I'm not ten. I can say if I want company or not." He snarled at his wife then turned to Okita. "Get out."

"And here I was going to tell you something interesting." Okita bounded to his feet. "I guess I'll keep it to myself."

"What?" Saitou shifted around uncomfortably. "The Batousai's really a girl and she's given up her life as a hitokori to become a mother?"

Okita snickered. "I've got to remember that."

Okita sat back down and started snitching food off Saitou's tray forcing his friend to start eating to keep him from taking all the best parts. Tokio glanced over to him and nodded slightly in thanks.

"Nope. I found out something even better." Okita snickered and made a grab for a piece of fish, only to get his fingers smacked away. "Remember that old priest who married everyone?"

Saitou ate the piece of fish, watching as his wife opened a chest and started pulling things out. "Yes. What about him?"

"He wasn't really a priest." Okita arched his eyebrows. "According to one of the mikos, he was actually the cousin of the priest, who had dysentery. All those official weddings Serizawa forced everyone to go through…"

Saitou frowned. Tokio pulling a go board out of the trunk turned frowning as well.

"Just imagine that…" Okita sat well back out of range as the information sank in.

"I'm imagining." Saitou tipped his head then grinned a wolfy grin at his now growling wife. "Isn't that interesting Yaso?"

"Fascinating." Tokio looked like she was going to hit someone with the go board then got even scarier when she smiled. "How nice." She got up and brushed off her robes, straightening them. "Now, where are my letters? This time, I'm going to get this right. No wolves, swordsmen, poets, rice farmers…"

Saitou snarled at Okita, "Go find a priest."

Okita knew a good moment for a retreat when it presented itself and left quickly, laughing to himself as he trotted down the stairs listening to the sound of a go board hitting the floor.

Saitou glared at his wife. "You're still married."

"That can be argued." She danced past him grinning. "You married Yaso Shinoda. As far as I know, you never married anyone named Tokio Takagi."

He grabbed her ankle as she tried to slip past again, causing her to stumble and drop the go board. "You're married."

"As I remember, you have to bed me three times to claim me as a visiting wife." She frowned at him. "You only did that once, so…"

"Get down here and we'll work on that." Saitou kept a firm grip on her leg.

"That's just the sweetest most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me." Tokio pulled on her leg. "I bet all sorts of women just fall at your feet when you say that."

Saitou struggled up, wincing at the pull he felt across his chest. "Tokio…"

"Stay put." She suddenly knelt and pushed him back. "Don't you dare move around like that Hajime. You'll hurt yourself."

He pulled her down with him. "You're mine. Understand."

She smiled against his throat. "And you're mine."

Saitou relaxed as he felt her shift her weight to settle at his side curling against him. He'd deal with Tokio and whatever game she was playing later. It would keep him from going insane till he could once again take up his duties. Maybe Okita would actually go get that priest and they could argue and maneuver around that, or maybe she'd turn suspiciously docile while her eyes glittered with devilment. He sighed softly as her fingers slipped under his yukuta and rubbed along his ribs. Perhaps, they'd find a different game to play, one a bit more intimate than mere verbal sparring. In the end, it really didn't matter, just as long as they played it together.

The End

* * *

Review please

Yes, I was considering an epilog, but I decided to just write another Saitou/Tokio fic, but you'll have to wait. I have already begun a Final Fantasy VII fic that I need to complete first.

**Research Notes:**

Gunshot wounds to the chest- Yuck. What I go through for you guys… Here's a picture for all you curious people. http//www. doereport. com/generateexhibit.php?ID4911. I'll use that wound since it's there so nice and neat. I'm pretty sure, but not positive, that the wound is survivable since it missed the heart, arteries, and backbone. The only changes I will make is that instead of a collapsed lung, Saitou had a confused one and I will say no huge ugly blood clot hanging over his diaphragm and lung. If you wish to learn more, have fun. I'm going to go pretend I didn't just look at a cross section of the human chest. Yuck.

Shijo Ohashi Bridge- I had a terrible time trying to find out about bridges and rivers in Kyoto, but I finally found the information. Go me! The Shijo Ohashi Bridge is also known as the Gion Bridge and goes across the Kamo River. On one side is a theater that plays are held which I think is the one in "Memoirs of a Geisha" but I'm too lazy to look that up. Here's a link for a very, very tiny history of the bridge. http//www. japanican. com/japaninfo/Detail. aspx?BookIDA3700150&categoryS&langEnglish and here's one for a picture of the bridge. http//images. sakura.ne.jp/images/kyushuokinawa/kumamoto/gionbashi/IMG66171ss. jpg&imgrefurlhttp://archiphoto.sakura.ne. jp/bridgeen.htm&h120&w160&sz38&hlen&start10&um1&tbnid3 1Yy6loFnMsqcM:&tbnh74&tbnw98&prev/images3Fq3Dgion2Bbridge26svnum3D1026um3D126hl3Den26rls3Dcom.microsoft:IE-SearchBox26rlz3D1I7GWYE26sa3DN. I just hope the addresses will show. I've noticed that they get a bit messy. If you have trouble, try mediaminer where the addresses get translated a bit better. I noted that the water under the bridge seemed very placid, but I found a few sites with close-ups of the water and realized that it was both deep and ran very fast. There's one picture of two people sitting next to the river and it didn't look all that placid or shallow. Actually, it looked rather scary. I also found a site that shows the height of the stone railings. They look kind of short in the picture. They are actually tall enough to sit on comfortably.

Shinju- this a suicide pact between one or more people. It was sometimes committed when two lovers, who for some reason could not be together, would kill themselves. They believed that this would allow them to fulfill their love in another life. It was all very goth and popular, and having people throw themselves off bridges after spouting poetry was a popular theatrical theme. For more info: http//www. britannica. com/eb/topic-540799/shinju or go to http//en. wikipedia. org/wiki/ShinjC5AB. There is actually a really good book called Shinju. I haven't finished it yet, but it's great so far. –And how could you even think that I read too many books about Japan. Bad reader. Bad.-

Married? Not Married?- I'm pretty sure that Saitou and Tokio are still married, even if the priest was a fake. As I pointed out before, the priest seems optional in _Daughter of the Samurai._ Tokio is just teasing and Saitou knows it.


	12. Sequel Has Arrived

Hi everyone,

Just a note to let you know the sequel to this is up, "Collateral Damage." Thank you for reading this fic and I hope that you will come join me in Tokio and Saitou's continuing story. I have read and reread all of your reviews and find it unfair that I can't come back and respond to them again and again. Instead, I want to thank all of you for your words. Sometimes, when I feel doubtful about my writing, I come back and revisit them and find in them the support that I need to continue. I wouldn't still be here without each one of you, so you have my eternal gratitude. Thank you.

Tamlin


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